Everything but Anything
by I'm-Reptar
Summary: Blaine Anderson is not looking for a relationship.  He's just living the unemployed life in New York.  Kurt Hummel is exactly the same way.  But when the two of them meet, will they fall?  Or will they make a deal;just sex and nothing more? R/R!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **I've been working on this for about a week now and I really just wanted to get it out. I hope you enjoy!**  
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**Chapter One**

Full Name: Blaine Michael Anderson

Age: 22

Date of Birth: November 19th 1993

Occupation: Unemployed

Past Occupations: Singing Bus-Boy at Johnny Rockets, Music Teacher, Actor for Off-Beat Theatre Company

Talented in which areas: Singing, Acting

Hidden Talents:

Blaine taps the pen to his chin, deep in thought. "Hey, David?" He calls from where he's sitting on the couch.

"Talk to me," David answers from the kitchen.

"For this application thing," David pops his head around the corner to look at his roommate. "Do you think 'giving awesome head' would be an appropriate answer for a hidden talent of mine?"

"Well, that depends," David says, leaning against the doorway, a dish towel in one hand, a wet plate in the other. "Are you applying to be a porn star?"

"No," Blaine looks up at him.

"Then there's your answer." He nods towards the kitchen. "Can you come help me with these dishes?"

Blaine waves him off, looking at the application in front of him again, this time studiously. "It's Wes' turn to do them."

David tosses the towel at Blaine, hitting him smack in the face. "Do I look like Wes to you?"

Blaine glares at him for a good few seconds before dropping his papers on the table in front of him, hopping to his feet to help his friend.

"I don't get it," Blaine says nearly ten minutes later, when he's still drying the dishes that David hands him. David looks up at him, a question in his eye. "Why do we let Wes get away without doing any work? Why do we have to bust our asses while he does whatever it is that he does?"

David turns off the water as he hands Blaine the last of the dishes. "Have you had a good look at this apartment, Blaine?"

Blaine stops what he's doing and takes a look around, looking at the walls he's known as 'home' for the past three years. It is a nice apartment, Blaine thinks. It's got three bedrooms, perfect for the three of them, a kitchen, three bathrooms that connect with each bedroom, plus another one just off the kitchen and a large living room space that they filled with a flat-screen television, a brand-spanking-new game system and a pool table. (Okay, so maybe _they_ didn't really fill it with all that stuff, Wes did with the help of his parent's money, but whatever). Each room is also nicely furnished, a queen sized bed with luxurious comforters, you know, the kind that you find at five star hotels, or in mansions.

"It's not exactly the cheapest rent." As Blaine puts the last dish in the cabinet, David grabs them both a beer from the refrigerator. "Do you see me working? Like, at a real job, where I get paid some real cash?"

"No," Blaine says, being quite frank and blunt.

"No, you don't. And I sure as hell don't see you working, Mr. I-give-awesome-head." He offers Blaine a beer.

"Ouch, David." Blaine says mockingly, taking the beer from his hands. "That one stung a bit."

"Wes has a real job, Blaine." David says, ignoring Blaine's idiocy as he opened both bottles. "A damn good one, at that. He pays for this entire place by himself, so if he misses a day of washing the dishes, the least I could do is do it for him."

"So, you're saying that if someone paid something for you," Blaine crosses his arms across his chest, making sure not to spill his beverage. "Then you would do stuff for them?"

David shrugs, "Yeah, sure, I guess."

"Huh," Blaine huffs, as he starts to walk away, back towards the living room. "Good to know."

David watches in confusion as Blaine plops himself back down on the soft, plush couch, before Blaine's statement actually clicked. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Anderson!"

Blaine barks a laugh before saying "Wasn't even going there,"

David smiles, rolling his eyes.

"Kuuuurt," the petite brunette whines.

Kurt makes an inaudible sound, something that didn't even sound like words, let alone the English language.

"Kurt," the brunette says again, pulling on his arms. "You have to wake up,"

"I don't wanna," Kurt says into his pillow, but it turns out more like a "idunwahaana".

"But you have too! If you don't get up we'll miss the matinee of Wicked. "

Kurt lifts his head to look at the girl. "Rachel if you do not shut the hell up, I am going to set fire to your cherished collection of Playbills."

Rachel gasps. "Oh, I call a bluff. You love that collection just as much as I do." Kurt glares at her, his eyes icy and blue. "Okay, fine. I'll let you sleep for another fifteen minutes but after that, you better get up, because I heard that Idina Menzel is going to be there, and I really want that to be true because I feel like we are almost one in the same and meeting her would be just so incred-"

"RACHEL." Kurt practically yells. "_Shut. Up_."

"Fine," she grumbles, walking away.

**Fifteen minutes later**

"Wakey-wakey, Kurt."

Kurt wants to punch something. That something preferably being the face of one Rachel Berry. Or, maybe not her actual face, just a stuffed animal bear with a picture of her face stapled to it. Yeah, that would work.

"What time is it?" Kurt asks, flipping onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Nearly eleven, and I know how long you take to shower and put yourself together, so I hope I woke you up early enough."

"What time is the matinee?" Kurt wonders, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Two o'clock."

"Shit," Kurt mumbles, kicking the comforter off his legs and onto the floor. "I'm going to have to miss some of my moisturizing routine in order to be ready on time, so you better feel lucky that I love you, Ms. Rachel Berry." Rachel smiles, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Oh, ew, lady kisses." Kurt says, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand.

"I'll leave you to get ready!"

"Great, thanks!" Kurt says in a fake tone, watching the girls retreating figure.

"Honey, I'm home!" Wes calls as he walks into the apartment later that same day.

It's nearly four in the afternoon, and Blaine and David had been filling out applications for jobs since ten that morning. Blaine thinks his hand is going to fall off because of all the writing he had to do today (because seriously, there's this little thing called a computer where you can type things and it saves a lot of time and also your hand from immense arthritic pain) and David just doesn't want to think about being unemployed more than he already does.

"Hey, buddy!" David says, clapping Wes on the back. "How've you been? Good? Good."

"I'm fine," Wes says, pulling away from David's grasp. "Where's Blaine?"

"I'm in here," Blaine calls. Wes looks over into the living room only to see Blaine's arm sticking up from behind the couch.

"Okay," Wes says slowly, not really sure if he should be scared for his friend. "Well, I have news for you two."

"Oooh, do tell."

"You know my boss, Kelsey, right?" David nods, and Wes isn't really sure if Blaine's even alive on the other side of the couch, but he continues anyway. "Well, she's going on maternity leave, and I've been bumped up to her position for the time being, which means I'm going to be needing an assistant."

David's brows scrunch. "Are you offering one of us a job?"

"Yes. Well, actually, no. I'm telling you of an opening that you could potentially snag if you impress the head of my section."

"Wes," Blaine practically croaks from the ground. "What do you even do?"

Wes makes his way around the couch to where Blaine is actually sprawled across the floor like a new rug. "I'm a publishers assistant, Blaine. I work for people who publish books. I also write articles for the company's magazine."

"Booooring." He says. "Dave, you can take the job. I'll keep looking on my own, thank you."

Wes ignores Blaine. "It's a really great job. It pays really well, and the hours aren't crazy, so you'll get most afternoons off."

"But here's the real question, Wesley." Wes raises an eyebrow at Blaine. "How many times a week do you get a good bone in?"

Wes looks at Blaine incredulously. "What does that even have to do with publishing books?"

"Everything. If you're publishing a book about sex." David counters, only jokingly.

Blaine flips over onto his stomach, hoisting himself up on his elbows to look at his two best-friends. "When was the last time either of you got laid?"

Both men look uncomfortable for a moment, before returning their calm and collected façade. "It's been a while," Wes states. "But, for what it's worth, I don't really care."

"Oh, bullshit."

"Yeah, we don't need to have sex in order to survive, like you do Blaine." David says.

"Again, I call bullshit." Blaine stands up, straightening out his shirt. "You know what I think?" he asks. "I think we need a boys night out. We should just go to the bar, get drunk and have fun."

"I have to work in the morning, Blaine."

"So?" he asks, excitingly. "I'm tired of going to the bar all alone."

"Are you also tired of using all my money at said bar, Blainey?" Wes says, smiling coyly at him.

"Hey, it's your own damn fault for giving me money in the first place," Blaine spits back.

Wes scoffs. "I give you money so that if your being Blaine and try to drive back drunk and get caught and thrown in jail, you can bail yourself out."

"Oh yeah, I'm gonna go drive my _invisible _car Wesley. I don't own a fucking car!"

"Well, maybe if you got off your ass and worked for a change, maybe you would get paid, and then _maybe_ you would own a car!"

Blaine's about to argue right back, but David steps between the two of them. "Whoa, calm down. The inner pacifist in me is starting to show itself again, so you two are not going to fight." He looks at Wes. "You need to loosen up a bit. Blaine's right. A boys night out is something I think we all really need."

"See? I told you-"

"And you," he cuts Blaine off. "You need to shut the fuck up."

"Sorry, _mom._" Blaine says, holding his hands up as if to surrender.

David rolls his eyes. "Go get ready. We're going out to dinner, my treat."

"With what money?" Wes asks, but he's not looking at David. Instead he's glaring at Blaine.

"My secret stash, Wesley; for emergencies only." He says. "My two best friends wanting to bite each others faces of? Yeah. I'd say that this is an emergency."

"Wasn't that fantastic, Kurt?" Rachel asks.

They're walking down the streets of time square, arm in arm. The Wicked Matinee had just ended and they were heading back to their apartment (after actually meeting Idina Menzel and getting pictures with her that will soon be on Facebook, (probably within the hour, knowing Rachel) much to Kurt's chagrin).

"It always is, Rachel." Kurt says, looking up at the tall buildings around him, the billboards on the side, the huge television screens. "It's one of Broadway's best musicals."

"Please Kurt, I wasn't talking about the show—Like I'd have to ask you if Wicked was good or not. It's always Phenomenal." Kurt raises an eyebrow at her. "I was talking about meeting Idina Menzel. Incredible, right? I mean, she's one of the greatest Broadway stars of our time. She originated the role of Elphaba, became a huge hit with the audience after only one performance. Aside from Barbara, she's one of my biggest inspirations."

"She is pretty incredible." Kurt says, looking at Rachel, who's smiling back up at him. "Not unlike yourself."

"Oh, come on, Kurt." Rachel blushes. "You're just saying that."

"No, I'm not." Kurt releases his arm from Rachel's grip, and wraps it around her elfin shoulders. "Did you know, Ms. Rachel Berry that you have one of the best voices I have ever heard?"

"Kurt I-"

"I am being completely serious." He squeezes her shoulders. "You deserve every last drop of praise you get, because you really are that fantastic. And you know what?"

"What?"

"One day, your face will be plastered over these billboards," he points up and around. "Tony Award winning Rachel Berry, Broadways newest breakout star."

"I'd have to actually land a part for that to happen." Rachel says.

"And you will," Kurt assures her. "Just give it time. It'll happen. Trust me."

They walk in silence for a few minutes, each concentrating on trying to maneuver through the hustle and bustle of Time Square as well as thinking about their future. Rachel thinks about singing on a Broadway stage, being the star of a performance, belting out the last notes of a show-stopper, while Kurt thinks about how one day he'll be able to say that he was _the_ Rachel Berry's roommate, best-friend, chum—you name it.

"You know what I think we should do?" Rachel asks. "We should celebrate."

"Celebrate what exactly, Rachel?"

Rachel thinks for a moment. "Just us. We should celebrate just the two of us. Just because we can."

"I'll drink to that."

"Really? Bubba Gump's?" Wes asks when they enter the building. "Isn't this place based off of 'Forest Gump'?"

"Run Forest, run!"

"Shut up Blaine."

"Hey," David says sharply. "No fighting, remember?" Blaine rolls his eyes, as does Wes.

Their seated fairly quickly, a table for four with an empty seat next to Wes.

"Do you guys remember freshman year, when we would come here and play 'Fuck, Suck or Duck'?" David asks, taking a sip of water after they ordered.

"I never understood what the 'duck' stood for." Wes relaxes into his chair.

"I think it was if the person was so unattractive that you wanted to run away, you would say duck, because you would have to, like, duck in order for them not to see you." Blaine says, showing Wes his ducking skills as he spoke.

"You guys want to play?" David asks.

"Sure, why not?" Wes agrees (Although both Blaine and David can feel that Wes is a little hesitant.)

"Wes, you're up first." Blaine says, eagerly watching the staircase that led into the restaurant.

The rules of "Fuck , Suck or Duck" are pretty simple. When a group of people come into the restaurant, you have to choose one person from the group that you would fuck, one you would suck or give head, and one who you would 'duck'. It's a simple game that they used to always play when they were in their first two years of college. After graduation 3 months ago, they stopped going out together as a group, therefore stopped playing their game.

"Okay," Wes says, when a group of three(the perfect size) comes in. "See the blonde? Blue shirt, big tits? I'd fuck her. I'd suck the other blonde in the green, and duck from the dude."

They continue on in this pattern, going from Wes to David to Blaine and starting over again. They get through two complete rounds, halfway through the third when their food comes, and they put the game on hold. Wes tells them a story about this one time at his office when one of the other assistants from his department had heard her boss having "intimate relations" with one of her co-workers.

"I am telling you, the look on this poor woman's face was one of complete terror, shock and arousal." Wes says, then imitating the woman's facial expression.

Blaine doesn't remember the last time he laughed as hard as he was laughing right now. Especially at something that Wes said or did. Wes is never really all that funny—he's always the one who focuses on work and always has this serious way of talking, where he uses big words even when talking to Blaine and David. But, right now, he wasn't doing his normal shtick; he was being one of the guys, and that was cool.

David is about to launch into a story to counter Wes' when Blaine spots him. He walks into the restaurant with his arm hooked through a small brunette girl's arm, but Blaine can totally tell that he's gay. Other than being awesome in bed, Blaine good at another thing; he has awesome gaydar.

Not only is he gay, but he looks absolutely delicious. His hair is perfectly coiffed, a nice and light brown color, a suit that looked like it was made specifically for him, and he seemed to glow. He looked like an angel.

"Fuck," Blaine looks down, trying not to stare at the gorgeous porcelain doll that just walked into the room.

"I thought we put the game on hold," David gives Blaine a confused look.

"I'm not playing the game right now," Blaine brings his eyes to look at the chestnut haired boy. "He actually looks like a good fuck,"

"Who?" Wes asks.

Blaine nods towards the two of them, seated on the far side of the room right next to the hallway that leads to the restrooms and the kitchens. They're seated at the only table for two left in the entire joint.

"The one sitting with the girl?" Blaine nods. "Dude, how do you even know he's-"

"I have to talk to him," Blaine cuts Wes off.

Blaine has this way about him—it's what his friends Jeff and Nick call "Stealth Player Swagger". Of course, Blaine will never ever, not even in a million years call it that. Instead, he just likes to say that he's go 'game'. To make it simple, you know it's an odd night when Blaine Anderson goes to the bar and doesn't get laid.

"You can't just go up to him," Wes whispers harshly. "You're not at some bar, you can't just do this to people."

Blaine waggles his eyebrows. "Watch me."

_You have to play it cool, _Blaine thinks to himself. _As much as you hate to admit it, Wes is right. You're not at the bar, so you can't be all over him like he's a bag of chips. You can do this._

"I'm going to need you to call me when I'm walking by his table," Wes can almost see the tables turning in Blaine's head as he thinks through his plan of action. "Not on my phone, just from across the room."

"And why would I do that?" Wes crosses his arms across his chest.

"Do you want to get laid or not?"

Wes grunts. "Fine. But I'm only paying for three of your drinks tonight."

Blaine winks at him. "I'll make them worth it."

Blaine starts to make his way slowly to the table, on his way to 'use the bathroom' if anyone were ever to ask. Blaine is just approaching the table when right on cue, Wes calls Blaine's name from his side of the restaurant.

It all happens very quickly. Blaine's turning on his heel to see who "called" him, his arm swinging over the table where the man sat with his lady friend. Blaine's hand smacks the glass closest to the man (_ow, jesus fuck that hurt)_ knocking it over into his lap. Blaine apologizing profusely saying "I am so sorry," over and over again, but the man doesn't say much of anything.

"I am so sorry if I ruined your date," Blaine says, apologizing yet again. He asks a passing waiter for an extra napkin.

"Oh, we aren't dating," the small brunette says. _Ha. _Blaine thinks. _ Who called it? _"This isn't a date." _ I did._

"My apology still remains the same."

"Honestly, it's not a big deal." The chestnut haired young man says and dear sweet lord, he _sounds_ like an angel too? "It's just water. It'll dry."

The waiter comes by with the extra napkin and hands it to Blaine, who mutters a brief thanks. "My name's Blaine," he says as he starts to dry up the water that had spilled across the table.

"Kurt," He smiles, and Blaine smiles back at him.

Oh. _Oh, wow, _Kurt has got some really nice baby blue eyes. And they aren't _just_ blue either, there's this sort of green color meshed in, along with a hint of gray fusing in around the edges and-

"I'm Rachel." The girl says, interrupting the moment.

Blaine smiles politely at her. "It's nice to meet you both." He crouches down beside the table. "Look, I feel awful about getting you guys wet," Rachel giggles quietly, hoping that no one heard her, but oh, Blaine totally did, but he continues talking anyway. "So, let me make it up to you.

"Me and a couple of my buddies are about to go hit up a bar—It's just a few blocks down. It's called The Viper. You can't really miss it; its got this huge electric sign above it, maybe you guys have heard of it?"

Rachel nods. "Yeah, we have to walk past it every day to get to our apartment."

"So, you guys know exactly where it is, yeah?" the two nod in agreement. "Why don't you let me buy you a couple drinks?" He looks a Kurt, not really even remembering that Rachel's sitting there. "It's the least I can do after spilling water everywhere."

"I don't see any reason not too,." Kurt says. "We'll be there. We were going to head that way anyway,"

"Awesome." Blaine smiles, and _whoa, where did all the air go_, Kurt wonders. "We probably gonna start heading over there soon, but take your time. Don't rush, or anything." He stands.

"Okay," Kurt says. "We'll see you there," he smiles, but Blaine is already heading back towards his friends, a smile of his own crossing his features.

"Oh. My. God." Rachel sinks back into her chair with a huge smirk on her face. "Did you see him? He was totally hitting on you!"

Kurt sneers. "What? He offered to buy us drinks, us being the operative word here."

"Did you even see the way he looked at you? I could practically see what he was thinking in his head." Kurt tweaks an eyebrow. "He was thinking 'what a fine piece of man ass that is. I can't wait to get him home and see if he knows how to play _Wii. _Maybe we could play a little golf and I could get a hole in one.' If you know what I mean."

"Rachel, your personification of the male thought system is highly amusing to me, but I don't think that's actually what he was thinking."

"Okay, so maybe I'm off a little bit, but come on Kurt. You can't honestly tell me that you don't think he's attractive."

"He's very attractive." Kurt admits.

"Or that he has a nice ass."

"That is a nice ass."

"Or that he was hitting on you."

Kurt scrunches his nose. "See, now that he was _not_ doing."

Rachel sighs. "Well, don't look now, but he's totally looking over here."

Kurt looks anyway, only to catch a wink Blaine throws at him.

"I said don't look."

"I can't believe that actually worked," Wes says, his heads buried deep in his hands.

"What can I say?" Blaine sits himself back down next to David. "I've got game."

"Tell me, dear Obiwon, what is your secret?" David begs.

"It wouldn't be a secret if I told you, now would it?" Blaine teases.

"Okay, seriously dude, it's been at least three months since I've had sex." David looks at him sternly. "Tell me your secrets."

"You were the one who told me earlier today that you didn't need to have sex to survive," Blaine counters.

"Three months!" David says a little too loudly, his voice cracking slightly. "Tell. Me."

Blaine rolls his eyes. "You just have to woo them. Make a dirty joke here or there, get them to laugh and you are pretty much set, my friend."

"That's it?" David asks.

"That's it."

A pause. "Did you get a name?" Wes asks.

"Kurt." He looks over at the table where the two sat. "His name is Kurt."

Just at that moment, Kurt looks in Blaine's direction, catching his eye. Blaine winks at him, sending him into a round of trying to hide his oh so obvious blush.

Oh, yeah. Blaine Anderson is definitely getting some tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two **

**A/N:**_ thank you so so so much to everyone who reviewed; it really means a lot to me. Also, I'm going to be completely honest and say that I'm throwing my smut-writing virginity out here. This is the first time I've written sex, so hopefully it's not awkward or anything. Read on!_

Blaine Anderson loves sex. And honestly, when you're as good at it as he is, it's almost impossible not to love it. Blaine can't even remember life before sex. Or, really, he _can_ he just doesn't like to think of it.

Blaine was seventeen when he lost his virginity. He had been a relationship with one Micah Hinders. They had been dating for what seemed like an eternity, but really was just about to be one year. Blaine had thought Micah was perfect for him—tan skin, shaggy brown hair that was well kept, a smile that could melt gold; they were really good together. Micah would always pamper Blaine, even though Blaine pretty much begged him not too; he didn't want to be _that_ boyfriend. But Micah insisted that he pay for everything, bought Blaine the most amazing birthday present (an electric Les fucking Paul), and Blaine really wanted to do something for him. He thought that giving Micah his virginity was the right thing to do.

And while they were actually in the act of making love as Blaine had so foolishly called it, everything seemed great. Smelled great. _Felt_ great. After they both had calmed down from their climax, Micah had wrapped his arms around Blaine, muttering the three words of destruction in his ear. "I love you," he had said. Blaine's stomach had twisted and turned; there were butterflies everywhere. Blaine had confessed his love right back, not a single hint of hesitation—he really did love Micah. They fell asleep in the mess of a bed, tangled in each others limbs.

In the morning, Micah got up to head to his job at the local coffee joint. He kissed Blaine's mop of hair, whispering that he loved him one more time before going on his own way.

It was the happiest Blaine had ever been. When Blaine got out of bed to take a shower, he was in a little bit of pain, but it wasn't the bad type of pain. It was good, a reminder that oh yeah, he had actually done that. Yeah, he was sore, but every time he moved and felt a sting of pain he was reminded of Micah and that kept a smile on his face.

Blaine had decided to go visit Micah at the coffee shop that same day. There was something about losing his virginity that made Blaine seem very vulnerable. It was like he had actually taken part of Blaine, like he had just swooped up a card on Blaine's desk that had "Blaine's Virginity" written in his scrawl across the top and he put it in his wallet. Like it was his security blanket, now gone. He just wanted to be near Micah, to be able to see him and hear his voice.

When Blaine got to the coffee shop, Micah was nowhere to be found. Blaine asked the girl behind the counter if she had seen him. She said she hadn't seen Micah at all that day; he never showed up to work.

Blaine called Micah—no answer. He drove by his house—no cars in the driveway, doors locked. Blaine looked through the window, looking into the living room. There was nothing. A room that was usually adorned with family photos on the walls, a big L-shaped couch facing a large flat screen television was completely empty. Nothing.

They were gone. The Hinders family had left town, leaving everything they loved (Blaine) behind. They hadn't even mention moving, let alone doing it without anyone's knowledge. Blaine wasn't sure what he should've done in that moment. Should he have followed? Try to figure out where they were going? Should he just forget completely about Micah?

What he ended up doing was breaking down on their front doorstep, huge sobs taking over him and his body convulsing with every broken moan that escaped him. He had lost it. The first and only thing he had every really loved. It was just gone.

Blaine made a pact to himself to never fall in love again. He decided that he didn't want to be in a relationship. He just wanted to fuck. And so that's what he did. The young, vulnerable Blaine Anderson was gone.

In order to keep himself from falling for anyone, Blaine had set a few rules with himself. He never used any kind of name while having sex, not their actual name or a dirty name; he never stayed the night. He would wait for the other to fall asleep, then get up and leave. He never gave out his number—no contact with the person would be excellent. He didn't snuggle. He just wasn't a snuggler. And he never, ever slept with the same person more than once.

That's why he tried so hard to pursue one single person. He knew that he would only get one chance with this person, so he better make sure that it's worth it for both of them.

That's why when he enters The Viper with David and Wes, he automatically unbuttons the first two buttons of his button down and rolls up his sleeves.

The atmosphere is the same as it is at every other bar in New York; dark and smoky with dingy different colored lights, with a dance floor in the middle of the room, a DJ up on the second level. A bar is to the right, a long black wooden counter top, with three Bartenders.

"Kevin," Blaine says as he sits down on one of the stools at the bar. The bartender turns around to see Blaine, a smile mushrooming across his features.

"Blaine," Kevin shakes his hand. "The usual?"

Kevin's kind of a big man, probably over the 6 foot mark, tattoos everywhere, with bleached hair that spiked every which way. From a far, he probably looks like the scariest guy in the world, but in reality, if you get to know him he's kind of a big teddy bear.

"Nah," Blaine says. "I'm actually hoping to meet someone here,"

Kevin winks at him. "Player,"

Blaine shrugs. "Well, yeah," he chuckles.

"I haven't been here in forever," David sits down next to him. "Haven't been to any bar in forever, really,"

"It's one of the perks of not having a job," Blaine says, swiveling around in his chair to lean his back against the countertop.

"Also could be a downfall of not having a job— no money to pay for drinks. They just stare at you, saying 'buy me' but you have no cash." Blaine waves his hand dismissively. "You think they're actually going to show?"

"Please," Blaine scoffs. "I had the brunette wrapped around my pinky. If Kurt doesn't show up, his little friend will."

"You're gay,"

"So?" Blaine asks. "I've slept with a girl before."

"You're a whore," David states.

"Nope." Blaine says, eyes focusing on the door to the bar that was now opening. "I just like sex,"

The bar door shuts, and it takes Blaine a while for his eyes to focus, zooming around the dark and crowded room. And then he spots him. Huddled closely to his friend Rachel, is Kurt and—did he change clothes? He definitely changed his clothes! He was wearing a suit before, and now he's—Blaine's mouth goes a little dry when he sees Kurt turn around, his skin tight jeans making his ass look _oh my god._

Kurt's eyes flash up to meet Blaine's, who smiles, heading over that way.

"Hey guys," Blaine says, once he's reached them. "I'm glad you could make it."

"I'm glad we came." Kurt responds, his blue eyes somehow glowing in the dark lighting.

"Come on," Blaine gestures to the bar. "I want you to meet my friends."

The music in the room is loud and thumping; it's the kind of music that you can literally feel in your bones. If you stopped and just listened to it for a moment, you could feel the steady beat in your head, in your heart and all through your body.

"Kurt, Rachel, these are my friends Wes and David," he gestures respectively to each of them.

They mutter their hello's until Blaine break them off. "So, Kurt, what can I get you to drink?" He would have offered Rachel something to drink, but it seems that she has somehow started in a deep conversation with David, sitting awkwardly close to him.

Kurt ends up ordering some fruity drink and Blaine doubles that order, getting one for himself too. "So, Blaine," Kurt starts. "What do you do for a living?"

Blaine settles into his chair. "Well, currently, I am unemployed, but looking."

Kurt nods. "Looking is always a good thing to do—even when you have a job."

"What about you?" Blaine takes a sip of his drink and _woah_. There is a _lot_ of alcohol in this drink.

"I am currently interning at a fashion magazine, working ridiculous hours, yet getting minimal wage." Kurt shrugs. "It's a great platform and base for where I want to be in my life, yet at the same time I feel like I want to strangle half of my co-workers."

"You're into fashion?" Blaine asks, his eyebrows tweaking in shock. "You struck me as more of a musical theatre guy, like myself."

"Well, I do love to sing and dance, and I was in glee club back in highschool—"

Blaine nearly chocks on his drink. "You were in glee club?"

"Oh yeah," Kurt nods. "We started out as a small group of five kids doing a horrible rendition of "Sit Down You're Rocking the Boat" but we ended up coming in second at Nationals my senior year."

Blaine leans back, nodding his head appreciatively. "Is that where you met Rachel?"

"Oh yes," Kurt sighs. "Ms. Rachel Berry was the star of our glee club. Every solo; hers."

_Rachel Berry. _Why does that name sound so familiar to Blaine?

* * *

><p>"So," Rachel says to David after her second very alcoholic drink. "Blaine's pretty cute, huh?" She slurs, putting her arm around David's shoulders.<p>

"Sure," he agrees. "If you're a gay man."

"He's gay?" Rachel asks, her eyebrows picking up a second or two after her statement, effects of the alcohol. "He's should meet my friend Kurt!" Rachel starts to pet David's face. "Kurt's right over—Hey!" She points at Kurt and Blaine. "They've already met!" She rests her head on David's shoulder. "It's a funny world," She says, before launching herself into a full, drunken performance of 'Funny Girl'. ("It fits, David, because I said it was a "funny world" and the song title is "funny girl". They rhyme. Don't look at me like that!")

* * *

><p>"Dance with me," Blaine offers, half an hour into their conversation.<p>

The song playing ends with a loud guitar solo, fading into the background. When the next song starts, Blaine can't help but smile and start to sing along.

_Is it still me that makes you sweat_

_Am I who you think about in bed_

_When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as your sliding off your dress_

_And think of what you did _

_And how I hope to god he was worth it_

_When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch your skin_

Blaine pulls Kurt out onto the crowded floor, not caring that he's back to back with some sweaty forty year old trying to hook up with a plastic-looking twenty year old. Kurt's blushing like crazy, his porcelain skin turning pink to the touch.

Together they move with the music, the beat taking over. They both have enough alcohol in their systems that they couldn't care less about anyone watching them. The song moves into the pre-chorus and Blaine grabs at Kurt's hips pulling him flush against him.

_Let's get these teen hearts beating faster, faster_

As the songs hits the chorus, Blaine is shamelessly singing along, gently moving his body together with Kurt's. Under the dark lighting, it's difficult for Blaine to see that Kurt's eyes have gone dark, but he can sense a change in the way Kurt's moving.

"I love this song!" Kurt says tastefully, trying to make himself heard over the beat of the music.

"What?" Blaine asks, holding his finger to his ear, indicating that he couldn't hear Kurt.

Kurt leans in, his lips just mere centimeters away from Blaine's ear. "I said, I love this song," He says, his breath ghosting over the shell of Blaine's ear, sending deep shiver coursing through Blaine's body.

"Me too," Blaine answers, pulling Kurt's arms up and around his shoulders. "Is this okay?" Blaine tries not to yell, but honestly the music in this joint is so loud, he can barely hear himself think.

Kurt nods, not saying anything, only continuing that dance to the music that surrounded him.

* * *

><p>"Do you want to dance?" Rachel says to David. Rachel has found herself a nice and comfortable chair right on David's lap.<p>

"I don't know this song," He pouts at her, something he would never do if he were sober.

"Who needs to know the music? Just dance!" Rachel hops off his lap, pulling him out and onto the floor. She reaches up to put her arms around David's shoulders, but to no avail. "You're really tall!" She says, loud enough for him to hear. "You remind me of my ex-boyfriend, Finn. He's Kurt's stepbrother!"

"Was he black too?" David jokes.

"No. He was your average everyday quarterback with the cheerleader girlfriend, who did what mommy told him to do and was also kind of an idiot."

David laughs, his body swaying to the music. "Well, I can assure you, I am not an idiot."

"Goodie," she leans her head on his chest. "You're cuter too,"

* * *

><p><em>Oh my god <em>Kurt's mouth is delicious.

_When did this happen?_ Blaine thinks. _Oh whatever. Just suck his tongue some more._

Honestly, Blaine can't even remember who started kissing who. He's pretty sure he had initiated it, but he can't be positive mainly because Kurt is a fucking _beast_ right now. His tongue keeps delving into Blaine's, a slightly bitter, slightly sweet taste of alcohol still masking his tongue.

Their mouths are moving together in sync with the music encasing all around them. Blaine hand's find their way to Kurt's hips, bringing them hard and crashing to his own, and oh hey, _that_ would be Kurt's dick pressing up against his own. Kurt groans into Blaine's mouth, his teeth grazing his bottom lip, and Blaine's sure that kissing someone has never been this intense or hot for him. Blaine continues to grind into Kurt's hips, and Kurt let's out these beautiful little moans that Blaine is barely able to hear.

Kurt pulls away (_no, hey wait, I wasn't done kissing you,_ Blaine thinks) his chest heaving up and down. There's a look in Kurt's eyes that is positively _dirty_ as he says, "Let's get out of here," not even waiting for an answer from Blaine before he's dragging him off the dance floor and out of the bar.

Kurt hails down a taxi, even though it's less than a block to his and Rachel's apartment. Kurt tosses Blaine into the taxi first, climbing in after him, re-attaching his lips for the few short minutes that they were spent in the confined space of the taxi. When they reach the apartment building, Kurt throws a handful of random bills at the begrudging driver, who grumbles and pulls away sharply once the two of them are bounding out the door.

Once they're actually in the building, Kurt is dragging Blaine towards the elevator, questioning looks from all the other individuals. They get a lift alone, and Blaine takes advantages of the empty space by pressing Kurt up against the back of the elevator, his hands next to Kurt's face, up against the hard medal as his swipes his tongue across Kurt's exposed collarbone, Kurt tilting his head up to give Blaine more access.

The lift ends all the quickly, and Kurt is leading Blaine by the hand to his apartment. While Kurt's unlocking the door Blaine is standing behind him, his hands on Kurt's hips as he sucks at the side of Kurt's neck. The door barely has time to shut before Blaine has Kurt pressed against the wall, much like in the elevator only this time he's kissing Kurt feverishly, running his hands along his sides, grinding his hips into Kurt's, their obvious erections creating the friction that they both longed for.

"Let's-"Kurt grunts. "Move this to the bedroom," Kurt says, barely a whisper against Blaine's lips.

"I like that idea," Blaine says, nibbling Kurt's bottom lip.

Kurt leads them to his bedroom, shutting the door tight behind them and locking it (in case a drunken Rachel Berry decides to show up and ruin _everything_). Kurt climbs onto his bed, pulling Blaine on top of him. Blaine plants his lips firmly on Kurt's, grinning into it as he eases Kurt down so that he's lying flat on his back. Blaine straddles Kurt's hips, still leaning down to keep their mouths intact as his slowly moves his hips in a circular motion.

"Shit," Kurt exhausts, bringing his hips up to meet Blaine's. "Can we—I need,"

"Yeah," Blaine agrees. He doesn't know to what exactly; he only knows that he wants this man naked and he wants him naked right now. Without any delays, Blaine has Kurt's belt buckle in his hand, undoing it at lightening speed, his hands working furiously. While he's doing that, Kurt is taking the opportunity of his free hands to remove his own shirt. When Blaine finishes with Kurt's belt, he takes in the magnificent view that is Kurt Hummel's body, pale yet glowing beautifully. He's got perfect planes across the creamy skin of his stomach and Blaine can't stop looking.

"What?" Kurt's tilts his head to the side, his eyes dark. He's noticed Blaine staring, watching his eyes go up and down his torso.

Blaine starts, reminded of Kurt's unique voice. "Do you," he swallows, "have any idea how fucking sexy you are?" he raises an eyebrow.

Kurt's hand somehow finds its way up Blaine's shirt, egging him to take it off. Blaine catches the hint, removing the cloth, before returning his mouth to Kurt's. The kiss is completely filthy, all open mouthed and tongue, but neither seem to mind. Blaine rolls his hips against Kurt, reminding him of why he is there. Blaine starts to fumble with the button and zipper of Kurt's jeans, but he can't seem to figure them out—he's wearing some famous designer jeans that have a series of buttons that Blaine can't figure out and he's extremely horny and just wants to get Kurt naked.

"You're impossible," Kurt says after watching Blaine struggle to remove his pants. While Blaine removes his jeans, boxers along with them, Kurt has done the same only in less time. Once again, Blaine looks over Kurt's body, his toned chest, his arms, his legs, his manhood—_okay don't drool._ Blaine is once again on top of Kurt, this time grinding their stark naked erections against each other, sending a shot a pleasure through their systems.

"Fuck," Blaine gasps, looking down at Kurt to capture his mouth in a kiss.

"I'm gonna need you to fuck me." Kurt says harshly. "Like, now." He reaches over to his bed-side table, where he brings out a condom and bottle of lube and tosses them to Blaine. "I assume you know what to do with these?"

Blaine smirks, lifting one of Kurt's legs over his shoulders. "I assume you know what you're getting yourself into?" He retorts, his voice gone dark and growly.

Kurt doesn't answer. Instead, he's taking deep breaths, relaxing his muscles as he hears Blaine open the bottle of lube, lubricating his fingers. When Kurt feels Blaine's cold finger against his entrance, Blaine can physically see him tense up. "Relax," Blaine says, kissing the inside of his thigh softly. Kurt does so as Blaine enters his first finger slowly. Kurt grunts at the feeling, and Blaine's prepared himself to wait until Kurt ready for more, but he doesn't have to wait long before Kurt encourages him to add more. Blaine adds a second finger and starts to move them slowly and simply. It's not long before he adds a third. This time as he moves his fingers back and forth, Kurt starts to move his hips, trying to meet Blaine's fingers every time.

And the noises that Kurt is making? Enough to make Blaine so hard, it's actually kind of painful. The sounds coming out of his mouth sound like a choir of angels, their so pure and wholesome.

Until Kurt let's out a "Please—just fuck me—nrghh".

Removing his fingers, Blaine rolls on the condom, hissing at the pleasure just a simple touch of a hand had caused him, lubes himself up and aligns himself with Kurt's entrance. He looks at Kurt, who nods, and presses in.

Immediately his enveloped by the heat, the muscle, the tightness and he has to take a deep breath. "Fuck," Blaine says. "You're so tight," he manages to say without his mind turning to mush.

"Yeah, well—holy mother of shit!" Kurt exclaims when Blaine starts to move slowly, pushing as far in as he could possibly go. "It's been—ahh—a while since I—god!"

Blaine starts to move faster, breathing in and out harshly as Kurt moves his legs to wrap around Blaine's waste to help bring himself to meet Blaine's thrusts. Kurt moans in pleasure as Blaine thrusts into him, and when he hits that spot of pure immaculate pleasure, Kurt just about looses it.

"YES!" he shouts. "Right there—please—fuck again—mmmmhm,"

"I can do that," Blaine says cockily, feeling the pleasure starting to coil deep in his stomach.

Blaine continues to plunge in, hitting that same spot that had caused Kurt so much pleasure as he takes Kurt's leaking cock into his hand and begins to pump in time with his thrusts. Blaine feels like everything is on fire. There's sweat pooling at the back of his neck, down his back and on his brow. He can see sweat beads forming on Kurt's chest as he heaves heavily, his breath coming in and out in sharp inhales and exhales.

Blaine slows his pace, rolling his hips more as he thrusts into Kurt. Kurt arches his back, his hands flying to Blaine's hair, wrapping themselves in the curls.

"More," Kurt commands, pulling tightly on Blaine's locks.

Blaine moves faster, still rolling his hips. "Fuck," they both say at the same time.

They have this weird sort of moment when Blaine stops moving and they lock eyes, in astonishment that they said the same thing at the same time. That's something that had never happened to either of them. Blaine looks at Kurt with a dark lust in his eyes, while Kurt's mirror them. They're both breathing heavily, their chest moving together and then not. Blaine's eyes flicker down to Kurt's before he plunges in, capturing Kurt's lips in a searing kiss.

When Blaine starts to move again, their moans are cut off by their mouths being in contact. Kurt's grip on Blaine's curls is so tight, he's actually afraid he's going to tear some out, but that doesn't stop him from holding tighter when he can feel the heat beginning to twirl in his abdomen.

"You feel so good," Kurt manages to get out, feeling himself become more undone with each thrust. Blaine moans an inaudible series of expletives in response. "Fucking shit!"

It only a few more thrusts before Kurt's saying "I'm gonna—ngggggggh" coming hard on their stomachs, spilling his seed. His body clenches, his back arching. He tightens around Blaine which is enough to send him over the edge as well, his toes curling against the sheets of the bed, his forehead resting on Kurt's shoulder.

The room is silent, apart from the heavy breathing of the two men, both coming down from their highs.

When Blaine pulls out, earning a groan from Kurt, Kurt moves to stand, going to his connected bathroom to retrieve a washcloth (the one's that he'll never admit he bought for purposes such as now). He wipes down an exhausted Blaine, along with himself before wrapping himself in his blanket, not even bothering to put himself into pajamas. He secretly liked smelling of nothing but sweat and sex. It's a nice reminder to him that he's not Mr. Innocent anymore.

Kurt looks at Blaine, Blaine looks back. Kurt smiles. Blaine winks.

"Are you going to go, or stay?"

Blaine looks over at the clock over Kurt's shoulder. Shit. It's nearly 1:30 in the morning. Had they really been going at it that long? They left the club around 11:00.

He should go. He knows he should. It's part of the pact he made. The one he made because of Micah. Blaine knows it would be in his best interest for him to just leave; get up right now and walk out the door, never see Kurt again. He knows that if he stays, it will go against everything he's done before, everything that he has set down for who he is. Blaine Anderson never stayed the night unless that entire night was spent fucking each others brains out. He knows that staying would only make things more difficult than they needed to be. Blaine Anderson likes simple, plain sex—no strings attached. Plus, it's 1:30 in the middle of the night and he lives a couple blocks away, and he's in New York City; he's not sure he should go and risk it. But still, Blaine knows he should go. Really, he should.

He doesn't go.

**A/N:**_ That wasn't too bad, was it? Anyway, reviews make me happy and keep me inspired to write more. Drop me a quick one? xD I'll update quicker than this last time I promise. _


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**_ Thank you to all of you lovely people who have reviewed and/or subscribed to this story! It means so much to me. This chapter is shorter than the others and it's kind of filler-y, BUT I tried to be more humorous in this chapter and I think it's kind of funny (Though that isn't saying much, I laugh at a lot of things.) Anyway, I hope you enjoy!_

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><p><em>WAKE UP YOU MOTHERFUCKER! YOU STAYED THE NIGHT. WHY DID YOU STAY THE NIGHT? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? WAKE UP YOU ASSHAT!<em> _I DON'T WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY. GET UP RIGHT NOW AND LEAVE AND NEVER COME BACK. YOU STUPID MOTHER FUCKER I SWEAR—_

That is what Blaine Anderson's head is telling him.

He rolls over onto his back, taking in his surroundings.

_Oh shit_. He thinks. _I did stay the night_.

In a quick moment of realization, he shoots up straight, looking around the room. A sleeping, soft, brown haired man sleeping gracefully next to him; clothes strewn across the room; a broken picture frame of the Eiffel Tower is on the ground that Blaine doesn't remember happening. But, one thing is for sure; he got laid.

_Ten points to Anderson_. Blaine smiles to himself before remembering that he needed to get the hell out of that apartment and that he needed to do it quickly.

_Why did you stay the night, Anderson? What is wrong with you?_ He thinks. _ I don't know! I don't know what was going through my mind! I know I should've gone home when I had the chance, because now he's gonna wake up and I'm going to be gone, and I don't know how he's going to handle it and shit, shit, shit this is bad Blaine! Why did you even try so hard to woo him anyway?_ Blaine stops to think about this for a moment, but then he remembers the way he felt to be _inside_ that boy, the heat and the tightness. _Oh yeah. That's why. _

_No, Blaine. _He shakes the memory. _ Just focus. You have to get out of here quietly. _Slowly as to not wake a sleeping Kurt, Blaine gently moves himself off the bed. When his feet touch the cold wood floor, standing straight up, the blood rushing to his head threatens to knock him over and it takes Blaine all of his power not to fall over and wake Kurt.

It's dark in the room—the blinds are shut, and Blaine has to fumble around on the ground to looks for his stuff. When he finds his pants, Blaine checks for both his phone and wallet before sliding them on, his belt buckle jingling quietly. His shirt is wrinkled and balled up, but he doesn't really care as he pulls it on over his head. He's on a search for his shoes and socks when his hand comes in hard contact with a medal object (Blaine soon realizes that it's the post of the bed frame.)

Blaine holds a back an expletive, biting his lip so hard he thinks he might have been able to draw blood. Kurt stirs in his sleep, pulling the blanket up around his ears. Blaine freezes, keeping low. He's not sure why. If Kurt woke up, there's no doubt that he would see him. Hiding would prove fruitless. Which it does.

Kurt's in that weird state where he's awake, but just barely. He is however fully aware of the empty space on the bed next to him. Drearily, Kurt lifts his face from his pillow, his eyes searching the room for Blaine, who he finds fully dressed at the foot of his bed.

"Blaine?" he asks, his voice groggy and full of sleep. He notices Blaine fully clothed, and tweaks his head to the side. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, I—" _Think of something quick you dumbass. _"I forgot, that I have this—job interview at nine."

_Good one._

Kurt nods. "Last night was pretty great, wasn't it?"

Blaine smiles because honestly; sex with Blaine Anderson was never _not_ good. "Yeah," Blaine agrees, slipping on his socks and shoes.

"We should hang out sometime."

And there it is. The reason why Blaine never ever stays the night with someone. The awkward "No, sorry, this was just a fuck" conversation. And Blaine hates giving it, he honestly does, which is why he normally leaves when the other person falls asleep after their rendezvous.

Blaine sighs, running his hand through his hair, pushing down the curly mess that had only gotten messier with sleep. "Look—"

"I'm not asking to become the most important thing in your life, but I was hoping that maybe this won't be the last time we see each other?"

_God dammit,_ Blaine thinks. _Why does this boy keep making me do things that I normally never do? Don't say you'll see him again. Don't you dare do it. _

"Kurt—"

"You're going to say no," Kurt says. He's rolling out of the bed, still stark naked as he finds a pair of sweatpants and slides them on. "Is this what you do? Do you just have one night stands? Is it what you live off of?"

_Don't let him get to you. Just say yes; this_ is_ what you do Blaine. There's no point in lying to him. _

"I was just going to say that my life is going to get pretty busy in the next couple of weeks," _What are you doing Blaine? Now you're just leading him on! Stop it!_ "Last night was—"

"Just a fuck?" Kurt offers, suddenly more awake as he pulls a t-shirt over his head.

"My last night to actually go out for a while," Blaine can't seem to get his mouth to stop even though his mind is more than ready to just shut up already. "I wanted it to be special."

Kurt eyes him, scanning him up and down. "So then we'll see each other again?"

_Blaine, say no. Don't be an idiot. Just say no. Say no. Say _– "Yeah. I mean, I can't promise anything. But I'd definitely like to see you again."

Kurt blushes. "Great. That's," he smiles. "Great." Kurt scratches behind his ear awkwardly. "Don't you have an interview?"

"Right," Blaine stammers, heading towards the door.

"Blaine?" Blaine turns to see Kurt holding out a piece of paper to him. Blaine takes it, opening it. It's Kurt's phone number, and Blaine can't help but smile. "Good luck,"

_What the _fuck_ are you doing?_

* * *

><p>It's nearly 10 am when Blaine finally returns back to his apartment. He had spent almost the entire walk back from Kurt's arguing with himself about why he was doing things he would never normally do. He kept going back from pros to cons about Kurt; why he took his phone number, why he actually kept said phone number packed in his wallet, why he agreed to see Kurt again. Whatever. It's not like he's actually going to call him, or ever see him again, right? Right.<p>

(He thinks.)

The apartment is quiet except for the slight sizzling sounds coming from the kitchen. Blaine heads that way. "David, if you're making food can you—"

Blaine stops short. That was certainly _not_ David in the kitchen. It is however, a small brunette wearing nothing but a pair of David's boxers and his X-men t-shirt. And when she turns around, it's a face that Blaine recognizes all too quickly.

"Oh!" Rachel says. "Hi." She says, pulling her hair behind her ear. "I-I'm making David and I some breakfast…I can make you some too, if you'd like," She offers.

"No," Blaine says, refusing to meet her eyes. "I'm fine, thank you."

He leaves the kitchen quickly. He walks through the living room and too David's bedroom door, which is closed shut. He knocks three times.

"Right here," A voice says from behind.

Blaine spins on his heal, looking David directly in the eye. "You brought _Rachel_ home?" He spits in his harshest whisper.

"Wha-"

"I bring you to a bar, full of people; hot, horny messes in dresses, and you bring _that_ home?" He gestures to the kitchen.

David sits up from his reclined position on the couch. "Wait, I thought you _wanted_ me to get laid."

"Not with dobby the house-elf!"

David takes a deep breath. "Look, we were both kind of drunk and she wasn't letting me go anytime soon, so I just brought her here. I didn't even have any plans of—sleeping with her. It just kind of happened."

"I cannot believe, that of all the women at the bar last night, you brought her home." Blaine says, dumbfounded.

"Will it make you feel better if I tell you that she was really good in bed and has a really great bod—"

"I really _don't_ want to hear about your sexcapade's okay?" He runs a hand through his hair. "Please tell me that Wes at least got some action last night,"

"Oh yes," David nods. "He had quite the eventful night with his right hand."

"You're vile."

"That's rich, coming from someone who has one night stands like it's his job,"

"At least I didn't sleep with someone who looks like they could be cast on Barney." Blaine tosses an eyebrow.

"David!" Rachel calls from the kitchen. "Your breakfast is ready!"

David pushes himself off the couch, looking down at Blaine. "At least she made me breakfast." He looks serious, but then barks a laugh.

* * *

><p>Rachel doesn't leave their apartment until late in the afternoon. She and David talk about things that Blaine honestly couldn't care less about, hence his hiding away in his room for most of the duration of Rachel's stay. He doesn't, however, miss the impromptu rendition of On My Own from Les Miserables that Rachel offhandedly performs. (Blaine's sort of always been a kicker for Musicals). Blaine remembers what Kurt had said about Rachel, what with her being the star of their Glee club (Which Blaine still can't believe, because he thought that only losers like himself, Wes and David were in Glee clubs; not people like Kurt). Kurt had said that Rachel got every solo—well, they were well deserved.<p>

When Rachel does actually leave, it's shortly after Wes get's back from his job. She thanks the three boys (and_ really_ thanks David) before bolting her way out the door and back to her apartment.

"So, how was she?" Wes ends up asking, once the three of them have gathered in the living room, watching some comedy special on the flat-screen.

Wes looks exhausted. He looks completely wiped out. There are dark circles under his eyes that normally aren't so pronounced as they are right now, and Blaine can't help but feel a little guilty for dragging him out to the bar when he knew he had to work the next day.

"Remember back in junior year, when I said that Katharine Smith was the best fuck?" Wes nods. "Rachel? Was about 10 times better than that."

"No shit," Blaine says both shocked and disgusted at the same time. "She looks like an 8 year old."

"She definitely isn't."

"Oh gross," Blaine says. "Heterosexual sex is gross."

"You've had sex with a girl before."

"I never said I liked it," Blaine counters. "Besides I was drunk, and probably high, so I'm lucky I even remember it."

Wes brushes off Blaine's comment, and looks at David. "Are you gonna see her again?" he asks.

"Probably. I mean, I gave her our number incase she wanted to go out again," David shrugs. "She said she'd probably call tomorrow."

"Great." Blaine's voice drops a hint of sardonic banter. "Because I wanted to spend my time around a hobbit."

"Like you're one to talk," Wes scoffs. "How tall are you anyway?"

"I'm 5'8'' and that's a perfectly normal height for a man," Blaine rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I'm well endowed in other areas which makes up for my height."

* * *

><p>Kurt is still dressed in the sweatpants he was wearing when Blaine left when Rachel finally returns home, except he's now adorned his body with a shirt. He's in their shabby kitchen, making himself some instant-food. It's not the best for him, he's knows that, but with the rent for the apartment and the terrible wages he gets paid working at that magazine, it's the cheapest thing he could buy himself that wouldn't put him out of his budget.<p>

Rachel practically skips through their apartment, announcing her arrival by humming the tune to On My Own. She's peppier than she usually is, and when she walks into the kitchen, she automatically throws her arms around Kurt's chest, bringing him into a hug.

"Someone's chipper," Kurt notes, his arms instinctively wrapping around Rachel's tiny frame.

"I had the most amazing time last night," Rachel smiles.

"Did you, now?"

"You know Blaine's friend, David?" Kurt nods, still embracing the petite one. "I went home with him and had the most incredible time. We were both a little drunk—well, I mean, not drunk, but we had been drinking so we were a bit tipsy, but it was still incredible. Honestly Kurt, I haven't felt that amazing since Finn and I—"

"Okay Rachel, when you start talking about your and my stepbrothers adventures in the sack, that is when I draw the line between appropriate and down-right scarring to think about."

Rachel blushes. "Sorry." She pulls away from Kurt. "Anyway, how was your night? With Blaine?"

"Incredible." Kurt doesn't really want to get into the gruesome details of his sexual adventures with his best friend so he just leaves it at that.

Incredible.

* * *

><p><em>He pins his hands above his head, his tongue shoving in his mouth, savoring the deliciousness that simply is Blaine. His unoccupied hand slowly moves down Blaine body, twisting his nipple in a painfully pleasure-filled way. Blaine gasp, his body arching up at his touch. <em>

"_Do you know what I want to do with you?" His lips ghost across Blaine's. Blaine's cock twitches at the words. "I want to touch you,"_

_Blaine groans, his body spasming, just waiting to be touched. "Fuck, please—"_

_He gently let's go of Blaine hands, sliding himself down on Blaine's body. He stops at Blaine's pink nipple, taking it in his mouth, twirling his tongue around the sensitive skin. Not removing his lips, he slowly moves down the rest of Blaine's toned stomach until he reaches Blaine's dick, already leaking. _

_His flicks his tongue over the slit, driving Blaine mad with the teasing. He smiles to himself at how much power he has over Blaine, before covering Blaine in the wet heat of his mouth. _

"_Fuck—Kurt—"_

Blaine shoots straight up in his bed. He looks around the dark room, his eyes trying to focus on something; anything really. He rubs his eyes, trying to shake the vivid imagery of his imagination from his brain. It's not long before he realizes the dream had caused a tenting of his pajama bottoms. _That did not just happen_, Blaine thinks to himself. There was no way that that could have happened. Absolutely, no way.

Because there was no way that Blaine Anderson just had a sex dream about Kurt Hummel.

Not a damn way.

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><p><strong>AN:**_ Soooooo, I really hope you liked that because i know i had a lot of fun writing it. Please Review! They keep me inspired and I write faster when i get feeedback. I'll try to get chapter 4 up by wednesday! _


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**_ I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON! I am so sorry for making you wait longer than I said you would have to. Life is kind of crazy for me right now, and I got a new computer because my other one crashed. So, i lost this chapter and had to rewrite it. I am so sorry. This chapter is also kind of fillery but it does effect things in later chapters. Read on!_

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><p>Blaine just had to get out of the house. He had been all alone; Wes had gone to work, and David went along with him so that he could be interviewed for that job that Wes had told him about. Which left Blaine all alone with no one to watch him swallow in his own thoughts.<p>

He couldn't stand being alone anymore. Not when he didn't have much to do or think about besides the porn he decided to throw in the dvd player, which only led him to think about his night with Kurt and the dream. That's where he goes wrong. Once he starts thinking about Kurt, he can't seem to stop. Kurt's like a gateway drug in a way; if something reminds Blaine of Kurt, he'll start to think about how good Kurt's ass had looked in those jeans, and then he starts to think about how good that ass looked _out_ of those jeans and it all goes downhill from there.

Blaine knows that dwelling on the fact that he can't get the image of Kurt blowing him out of his mind is only going to make him want it even more than he already does (and he really, _really_ does) but that's against everything he believes in.

That's how he ended up sitting across the table from his friend Jeff at some Starbucks store in a high end town in Connecticut.

"So, how's the married life?" Blaine asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

Jeff smiles. " I know it's only been two months, but I feel like we've been married for two years already."

Blaine's eyebrows scrunch. "What do you mean?"

Jeff shifts in his chair, flipping his blond hair to the side. "You know those movie's where a married couple don't really see each other during the day because their both out of the house, and when they get home and actually see each other they do nothing but have mind-blowing sex?" Blaine still doesn't get it. "It's like that."

Blaine nods, not quite understanding what Jeff had actually meant by all of that, but he's a good actor so pretending he actually understood isn't that hard for him to do. "So I take it you found a job?"

"Oh yeah," Jeff says, taking a sip of his coffee. "I got a teacher's assistant job at a private school just around the corner. It's just a two year thing, but it's gonna pay the bills, and it's setting me up for future teaching jobs."

"What convinced you to actually go _back_ to a school? You just got out of one." Blaine smirks.

Jeff shrugs. "I don't know. The school that I work at reminds me of Dalton dude."

"I thought you hated Dalton."

"I hated learning." Jeff jokes. "I loved Dalton. The teachers were so focused on letting you be independent that they pretty much let you run free. I got away with so much stupid crap at that school. Nick and I never got caught."

"How is Nick, by the way?" Blaine asks. "I haven't seen him since the wedding."

"He lives in the same apartment building as me and Katy so we see each other every day." There's an awkward pause of silence. "Can I be honest with you, Blaine?"

Blaine shrugs. "Sure."

"I was shocked when you called. I mean, why did you? I thought living the big-shot life in the city would be enough to keep you busy 24/7."

Blaine rubs his face, letting his hand fall slowly to rub the back of his neck. "I had to get out of the city for a while. I felt almost claustrophobic. Besides, I haven't just had guy time in a while," _Liar¸_ Blaine thinks to himself. _You had 'guy time' with Wes and David. And that turned into sex time with you and Kurt. And _that's_ why you're sitting here._

"I can get a hold of Nick if you want—the three of us could hang for a while. Go see a movie, or to the mall, or something."

Blaine nods. It doesn't take a lot to please Blaine, especially right now when all he really wants to do is just lose himself in an endless bliss of nothingness.

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><p>"It's like high school all over again," Nick says when they enter the ivy covered school. "Dude, this place is exactly like Dalton. Except for the girls. And the uniforms."<p>

"Jeff, why aren't you actually working right now?" Blaine asks. They're in the main lobby near the far end of the school. There are young students running past, some entering what Blaine assumes to be the infirmary and some continuing on towards the direction of the main part of the school. "School's in session, right?"

"I'm a TA in the kindergarten classroom, and for the first two months of school they only have half days." Blaine takes a good look at Jeff, and for the first time he realizes that he's wearing black slacks and a blue oxford shirt with a tie. Blaine's not so sure that he'd like having to wear a tie everyday, guessing that that's the attire for TA's to wear at this school. "I'm free from noon on."

"Is this a high school too?"

"It's a kindergarten through twelfth grade school. Lower school, middle school and upper school all combined into one very modified building." Jeff starts to take them down the corridor that led to the main part of the school. A staircase that Blaine presumed led to the upper school was on the left, adorned with posters and reminders to buy class rings and that the homecoming dance was coming up.

"Do you wanna know the best part about this whole school?" Blaine averts his eyes from the sheer enormity that was the trophy case which was built into the wall beneath the staircase to look at Jeff. "They have an all male a capella group."

Nick's eyes go wide like that was the best news he had heard all day. "Are you joking?"

"Do I joke?" Jeff asks. Both Blaine and Nick look at him disbelievingly. "Okay, so I joke a lot, but I'm completely serious about this. They're called the Fermatas. The girl's a capella group is called the Crescendo's. They're both really good actually."

"As good as the Warblers?" Blaine jokes, knocking gently into Nick's shoulder.

"How dare you make an accusation that anyone could ever be better than the Warblers." Nick glowers at Blaine, and Blaine's actually kind of shocked to see how serious Nick is being right now.

"They're good in their own right," Jeff leads them past the cafeteria, and down a flight of stairs. "I'm kind of hoping that their in rehearsal right now—maybe we could sneak in."

As it turns out, they are rehearsing. They're in the auditorium working in the classical semi-circle that was associated with most a capella groups. The three men sneak in, spotted by one of the boy's on the stage who doesn't (thankfully) report them for entering in on a closed practice. One boy gives out pitches (perfect pitch; this is something Blaine knows well) before beginning to conduct them. Blaine nearly laughs when they start singing—not because they're bad or anything (They're actually really kind of good) but because of the song. A song he knows only too well.

And they aren't only singing, they're dancing too. Not just the step-touch that the Warblers were all about back in the day, but legitimate dance moves that had been choreographed and obviously rehearsed many times over. And they're _good_ too. Blaine's not going to admit it, but he thinks that they're right up there with the Warblers.

"Are they seriously singing Britney?" Blaine leans across Nick to ask Jeff, who instead of answering back, shushes Blaine with the flick of his hand, his eye intent on the performance. By the middle of the song, Blaine's smiling, dancing in his seat, mouthing the words to "Toxic" that he knew by heart, earning a shove from Nick.

When the song is over, the three of them (without thinking; there were bound to be _some_ things that hadn't changed from high school) stand up and applaud the boys, who look frightened and pleased at the same moment. They continue to work through more numbers, having to stop at least once in every song to fix some harmonies, but Blaine watched in amazement at how organized the group seemed to be.

When Blaine, Nick and Jeff were in high school, the only thing that was really organized about the Warblers was their arrangements and that was because Blaine and David usually ended up arranging them. The two of them seemed to have knack for musical arrangements, they both could play multiple instruments, read music, and when the two of them teamed up and worked on an arrangement together, they would create what some would call a knock-out. Of course, if you ask Wes what he thought was the most organized part of the Warblers, he would tell you that it would be him and his gavel. There was nothing organized (or _civil_ for that matter) about Wes and his gavel. He thought that the gavel gave him superiority or something when it came to the Warblers council. Whenever one of the other members would want to pitch an idea to the group, it was Wes' job (maybe not his _job,_ but more of what he thought_ should_ have been his job) to shut them up, tell them "no" firmly, and then smack his gavel. Blaine has to wonder how he even got through high school with Wes and why he decided to move into the same apartment as Wes. Or why they're friends.

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><p>When the three men leave (after a long discussion with the group, and an impromptu version of "Good Ol' Harmony, an a capella classic) it's Nick's brilliant idea to go bowling. Now, Blaine hasn't been bowling in a very, <em>very <em>long time. It has nothing the do with the fact that when you bowl not only do you have to wear ridiculous clown shoes, but you have to put your fingers in the holes of the ball (And Blaine would rather not; knowing where _his_ hands have been, he'd hate to know that people other than him had actually used the ball). Not to mention that the bowling ball itself is probably a breeding ground for staph infection or STD's or the black plague or some weird shit.

Okay, so maybe that was part of the reason.

But more than anything—Blaine sucks at bowling.

There isn't a lot that Blaine Anderson is bad at but when he _is_ bad at something, he's is usually _terrible _at it. Take cooking, for example. Blaine had decided to go back to Ohio last year for Thanksgiving to visit his family and while he was there his mother simply insisted that he help make the cranberry sauce.

He ended up setting the stove on fire. How one does that when making a simply serving of cranberry sauce is beyond anyone's knowledge. It's safe to say that now his mother lets him nowhere near the stove or anything that has an open flame.

Blaine kind of views bowling the same way he views cooking. There's an end product you want to get too, but you have to follow a recipe to get there. And Blaine hates recipes. Actually, he hates following instructions in general, which is why Blaine _sucks_ at bowling, and Nick has no problem calling him out on this.

"The point of the game is to actually hit the pins," Nick offers after watching Blaine get yet another gutter ball. "Knock 'em down."

"Shut up, asshole." Blaine waits for his ball to return before lining up to toss his ball again. He takes a deep breath in, breathing out through his nose before releasing his ball, watching it roll down the lane. Jeff and Nick can barely hold in their laughter when Blaine knocks down only one pin on the very end.

"Tell me again why I said yes to bowling with you two idiots?" Blaine drops himself into his uncomfortable plastic chair, picking up his water bottle and taking a swig.

"Because we're your friends and we're awesome."

"I'm beginning to question that statement," Blaine glowers at Jeff.

They get through another round before Blaine starts to really focus on what he's doing. Even then, his game play isn't exactly the best. He get's 5 gutter balls in a row and still going.

"Blaine Anderson; what the hell can't he do?" Jeff wonders, watching Blaine throw his hands in the air in defeat after he lands himself a _sixth_ gutter ball.

"Bowl." Blaine says sourly. "I told you we should have gotten the bumpers when they asked."

"Those are for children." Nick blinks at Blaine.

"And grown men who can't bowl for shit!"

"Well, next time we come here I promise to get you your bumpers and your five pound ball." Jeff offers, and Nick chuckles. Blaine wants to punch them both.

"I want to punch you both."

"Aww, c'mon. We're just kidding!" Nick pats Blaine's back. "We know you can handle more than just the five pound ball."

"And now I'm _really_ starting to question the statement of our friendship."

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><p><em>What the hell is that constant beeping? <em>Blaine rubs the sleep from his eyes as his brain starts to recognize that beeping noise as the phone ringing.

Blaine had crashed on the couch the night before, after leaving Jeff and Nick and getting back to the apartment around 2:00 AM. He was too tired to walk to his room, so instead he just curled up on the couch and thrown a blanket around his waist and slept.

Blaine reaches around blindly in the dark for the phone. When his hand finally lands on the phone itself, it's on the last ring. "'Lo?" Blaine mumbles.

There's a pause. "… D-David?"

Blaine arches an eyebrow. "No, uh, this is Blaine."

"Oh." Another pause. "It's Rachel."

Blaine groans inwardly as he starts to sit up, the blood rushing to his head. Rachel. Ugh. Doesn't she have anything else to do? Like—get a life that doesn't involve Blaine, or join the travelling production of Annie or something?

"Is David there?"

Blaine squints his eyes to focus of the bright numbers on the clock before they unscramble and make sense in his mind. "Rachel—It's 6:30 in the morning. Can't you call back later?" _Or not at all, _Blaine adds in his head.

"It's really important," Rachel claims and Blaine can practically see her making an unattractive face while she wines. "Please, can I just speak with David?"

Blaine throws his head back, not wanting to get up from his wonderful make-shift bed on the couch. He's deeply contemplating "accidentally" hitting the end button on the phone, but he doesn't get the chance to do so because just as he's about to do it, the door to David's bedroom creaks open, and David pops his head out the door.

"Blaine," he whines. "What are you—did you sleep on the couch?" he asks, his eyes focusing on Blaine small figure.

"So what if I did?" Blaine says, shifting himself.

"Why, was it really that difficult to walk another ten feet to your bedroom?"

"Go back to bed."

"I want to talk to David!" Rachel's voice coming from the phone scares Blaine, who had forgotten of her presence via the telephone.

"I wasn't talking to you, Rachel." Blaine groans.

"Rachel?" David asks, suddenly more awake than he was before. "Is she on the phone?"

"No, David, I'm talking to myself. Rachel is just my drag queen name." Blaine's voice drips with sarcasm as he stands up, striding over to David's doorway. "You're girlfriend decided it was necessary to call at 6:30 in the morning."

"She's not my girlfriend." David says, taking the phone from Blaine. "Yet."

"Whatever." Blaine says, but David's already closed the door. Blaine waves his hand dismissively before throwing himself down on the couch again, letting sleep claim him once more.

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><p>When Blaine wakes again, it's not because of a phone ringing. Instead, he's woken up by the smell of freshly cooked bacon and eggs.<p>

He glumly walks towards the kitchen, his hair sticking in every direction. Unlike the last time he had walked into the kitchen at the smell of breakfast foods, Wes was standing over the stove, mumbling to himself.

"Wes, will you make me some?" Blaine grabs a mug from the cabinet and pours himself a cup of coffee.

"Sure Blaine!" Wes says in an overly exaggerated voice. "Why not? It's not like I have anything better to do!" Wes turns to look at Blaine. "Oh! But I do actually. I have to work on this stupid assignment for my job, I have to do everybody's laundry because no one in this goddamn apartment knows how _and_ I have to clean the living room because _somebody _slept on the couch and made everything a freaking mess!"

"Whoa." Blaine takes a step back. "You don't have to make me breakfast—I can make it myself if you really want me to—"

"Yes, Blaine I really want you to."

Wes walks away from the stove where his half cooked breakfast is sitting in the pan. Blaine quickly wonders what Wes' problem is before he hurriedly prepares the rest of Wes' breakfast as well as his own.

When he goes to bring Wes his plate, he finds him sitting on the couch that he was previously occupying, watching the morning news. Blaine sets the two plates on the glass coffee table in front of them then goes to grab both of them a cup of coffee.

"Thanks Blaine," Wes says when Blaine finally returns to the couch. Wes is already eating, looking like one of those depressed women who do nothing but watch sad chick-flicks and eat tubs of Ben and Jerry's half-baked flavored ice cream.

"No problem," Blaine picks up his plate, and starts poking his food around. He looks quickly at Wes, noticing the crease of his eyebrows before asking what was wrong.

"I'm just not in a good mood, Blaine." Wes says, taking another huge bite.

"I figured that much out on my own, thanks," Blaine drops sarcastically. "There's something more—I can tell."

Wes chews slowly, pouting over his plate. "David is bringing Rachel over."

Blaine groans, running a hand through his hair. "Is that what you're upset about? Rachel coming over here?"

"Yes?" Wes puts his plate on the table. "Blaine, you of all people know how hard it is for me. I work 5 days a week. And even when I don't have to go _in _to work, I have to work on _something. _I never have time for a social life or going to the bar or _girls_."

"So, you're upset that you don't have a girlfriend?"

"Do you know how long it's been since I've had a girlfriend? Over a year. You know how long it's been since I've had sex? Longer than that."

"Wait, seriously?"

Wes shoots him a glare. "I'm upset because David always ends up bringing his 'girlfriends' back here, and it's like he's rubbing it all in my face. I mean, you never bring anyone home, but David _always_ does."

"I get it." Blaine says. "Well, kind of. Don't focus on it. If you're meant to be with someone—anyone—it'll happen. Just let fate take its course."

"When did you become so in tune with emotions?" Wes jokes.

Blaine smiles, hearing the front door open. "Hey, guys! I'm back, and I have company."

Blaine heaves out a sigh, putting his feet on the table in front of him.

"Blaine, I have a surprise for you!"

_Oh, joy._

When Blaine turns around to find what David is talking about, he finds someone else and his stomach drops.

"Hi," Kurt says, waving a little bit.

Well, shit.

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><p><strong>AN:**_ Thoughts? Tell me in a review, please!_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**_ This chapter moves very quickly, so just a fair warning. I really wanted to just get this chapter out there. I hope you enjoy!_

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><p>Have you ever been in one of those completely awkward situations, where you feel like time is just ticking on and doesn't want to bring this moment of discomfort to an end and would rather be out buying lingerie with your mother? Yeah, Blaine is having one of those moments right now.<p>

He turns his cup in his hands, watching the Starbuck's logo constantly fall behind his fingers.

"So." Kurt says, taking a sip.

"So."

Wow, Blaine can actually feel the uneasiness in the air. He feels like it's covering his entire body. Anyway he moved he felt like it was just adding to the atmosphere, because it was something to do other than look at his hands, or the clock behind Kurt's head.

"I don't get it," Kurt says, not meeting Blaine's eyes. "We were able to talk so easily the other night." He finally looks directly at Blaine. "Why can't we now?"

Blaine wishes he had an answer—because even though he's breaking his own rules right now, Kurt at least deserves the truth, but the truth is just something that Blaine can't seem to come up with right now; he isn't sure as to why the two of them can't hold a conversation right now.

"You can be honest with me," Kurt says, and Blaine has to look away because he can't control the way Kurt's baby blue eyes make him feel like a 12 year old girl. "I'm tougher than I look."

Blaine just says it. "I never really had any intentions of being in contact with you again." Kurt's emotions don't budge. They're rock solid, like he knew that that blow would be coming. "I'm really sorry Kurt," he says softly. "You deserve better. I'm kind of an asshole."

"Yeah, you kind of are." Blaine suddenly feels really guilty, like everything that had happened in his life was his fault; because he's an 'asshole'. Like all of the pain he's gone through, like losing Micah, or his dad no being very accepting when he came out. He feels like it's all his fault because he was just being who he is.

"But," Blaine starts. "Being here, right now with you is actually kind of nice."

Kurt rolls his eyes. "I didn't know forcibly hanging out with someone could be considered kind of nice."

"What, you don't think this is enjoyable?"

"You just told me you had no intentions of calling me or ever seeing me again." He sighs heavily. "Sorry if I don't find that enjoyable." Okay, yeah. Blaine totally deserved that one.

Kurt starts to stand, wrapping his scarf around his neck for the unusually cold September day in the city. "What're you doing?"

"Leaving." Kurt says bluntly. "There's obviously nothing here for me, so why should I hang around?" He looks at Blaine and for a moment, Blaine looks genuinely upset by Kurt's words. It's been a long time since Blaine has had a conversation about, well anything of substance really.

"Kurt, I—"

"Bye Blaine," Kurt says, picking up his coffee. "If we ever meet again, it'll be totally by accident. I see nothing in you but a coward."

Blaine watches Kurt's retreating form, watching the sway of his hips, the pep in his steps. For the first time, Blaine feels kind of….worthless.

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><p>When Blaine gets back to the apartment, Wes is sitting on the couch with a tub of ice cream and all of the Harry Potter DVD's on the coffee table. The third movie is playing up on the screen.<p>

"Harry, Snape is going to kill you for throwing him into that nasty old bed!" He yells with his mouth full of ice cream. "Dumb ass kid,"

Blaine shakes his head, taking his jacket off and dropping it on Wes' head. "Hey!" he calls, grabbing at the material. "You know I don't like the dark Blaine,"

"Oh, shove it," Blaine snaps, grabbing the ice cream from Wes' hands, and shoving a spoonful in his mouth.

"What's got your dick in a twist?" Wes says, snatching the tub back, hoarding it away from Blaine.

Blaine throws his head back on the couch. "Nothing." Blaine lies. _If 'nothing' means a guy that I barely know but have fucked told me that I'm a coward then technically I'm not lying,_ Blaine thinks to himself. "Anyway, you shouldn't be worrying about me. I should be worrying about you and you're general insanity."

"I'm not insane." Wes defends.

"You were just screaming at a movie. You do know that they're fictional characters, right? They can't actually respond to what you're saying."

"Blaine Anderson, do you always have to ruin everything for me?"

Blaine shrugs, falling to the right so that he was lying on the couch. "So I was wondering," Wes asks, and Blaine has to crane his head to see Wes' face. "if maybe, you and I could go to The Viper tonight."

Blaine rubs his face. "Why? You didn't enjoy yourself last time."

"Last time I didn't enjoy myself because David was there." Blaine raises an eyebrow. "I just want it to be you and me this time."

"I don't know…" Blaine starts, but Wes literally jumps onto Blaine's lap.

"Please Blaine! Please, please, PUHLEASE!" Wes squirms on his lap, looking like a four year old throwing a temper tantrum.

"Jesus," Blaine says, pushing Wes off of him. "What's got you so riled up?"

"That's my third tub of ice cream just this morning," Wes shrugs. Blaine looks genuinely scared for his friend who had decided to go back to eating his tub of ice cream. "So what do you say?" Wes says around a mouthful of ice cream. "You, me, the Viper?"

_It couldn't hurt,_ Blaine thinks to himself. _I bet if I find someone else, it'll get my mind off Kurt. _Blaine kind of feels weird thinking about fucking someone else. Why though? It's not like he and Kurt were dating, dear _god_ no, but he still feels kind of like he'd be cheating. _No,_ Blaine stops himself. _You don't have feelings for him. You just thought he was a good fuck. That's all. Go to the bar, find some random horny guy and fuck their brains out. Kurt doesn't want you. You don't want him. _

"Yeah. Let's do it," Blaine nods to Wes, who rejoices, throwing his arms around Blaine's neck.

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><p>Blaine had lost Wes literally the <em>second<em> they walked into the bar. He turned to look one way, and when he turned back around Wes was gone.

Blaine walks himself to the bar, hopping up on one of the chairs and orders himself a beer. When Kevin returns with a beer for Blaine, he slides it to him carefully, eyeing him just a bit.

"Are you okay?" Kevin asks, watching Blaine drink his beer somberly. "You're usually more enthusiastic when you come here."

Blaine shrugs, not meeting his eyes. "I'm not really in the mood for a drunken one night stand, you know?"

Kevin wipes down the counter around Blaine, not convinced that that's the only reason that Blaine's upset. "Are you sure that's the only reason?" Kevin's not trying to prod into Blaine's personal life, but they've been friends for nearly three years now and he's just worried about Blaine.

Blaine meets Kevin's eyes and sighs heavily. "Have you ever felt so guilty about something that you just want to lay in the middle of the street and get hit by a fruit truck?"

"Well, not a fruit truck," Kevin jokes, trying to ease the situation but Blaine doesn't crack. "Sorry. Uh. What's making you feel so guilty?"

Blaine takes another sip of his beer—a _huge_ sip—before diving into the story. "Have you ever met someone that is just so _fantastic_ as a person and their cute and funny?" Kevin nods. "I met someone like that the other night. I went into it thinking that it was just another one night stand. But then I stayed the night, and he gave me his number and I was an asshole. I didn't call him, and then I admitted to him that I wasn't going to call him and now I just feel like a worthless piece of shit."

Kevin scrunches his eyebrows, leaning against the counter. "Did _he_ call you a worthless piece of shit?"

"He called me a coward,"

"Oh."

"And that he never wants to see me again."

"He said that?"

"Well, no." Blaine shakes his head. "But he did say that if we ever meet again it'll be completely by accident, which can be translated to 'I never want to see you again'."

"Do you want to see him again?" Kevin prompts.

"Maybe?" Blaine puts his head in his hands. "I don't know." He groans. "I was immediately attracted to him when I saw him. That's never happened to me before. He just seems like someone who would be really cool to hang out with. He's—" Blaine stops, noticing a familiar figure moving body to body with another person. "Right there."

Blaine can't believe his luck. Actually, he's not really sure if it could be considered luck. More like karma being a bitch.

"Will you excuse me?" Blaine says, leaving his beer on the counter and walking into the crowd. His eyes never leave Kurt's moving body. When he's standing right behind him, his heart is beating loudly in his ears.

Kurt's dancing with a big, buff guy with muscles and tattoos everywhere. They look like their in a deep conversation, but Blaine can't help himself. He's been doing a lot of things based on spontaneity lately, and he can't exactly put a finger on why.

"I thought you never wanted to see me again!" He calls loudly, making sure that Kurt can hear him.

Kurt turns around to face Blaine, his expression obviously saying 'fuck off'. "I don't."

"Then what're you doing here?" Kurt turns back to the man he was talking to and excuses himself before turning back to Blaine. "I didn't know you were into big buff one's." Blaine says, nodding towards the guy walking away.

"What, Puckerman? You think I'm attracted to Puckerman?" Kurt crosses his arms across his chest. "He's my friend from high school."

"You never answered my question." Kurt raises his eyebrows. "What're you doing here?"

"I can't come enjoy myself? Because obviously I can't since you showed up."

"What do you mean, since I showed up? I've been coming here for three years."

"And because of that I can't come here? Thanks Blaine. Thanks a lot."

Kurt starts to walk away. "Wait!" Blaine follows him. "Kurt wait!"

Kurt turns around sharply. "Why should I wait? So you can give me some bullshit answer about how you're sorry for being an asshole to me? You lied. You said you would call me, you never did and never had any intentions to."

"If you would listen to me and let me explain—"

"Explain? What, that you're a petulant bitch?"

Kurt continues walking, and Blaine has to run to catch up to him, brushing off the fact that Kurt called him a petulant bitch. When they exit the bar and are out on the street, Blaine literally grabs Kurt's hand and turns him around. He's let his anger take the best of him.

"Will you just get off your fucking high horse?" Blaine asks. He realizes soon after he says those words that actually saying those things are probably only going to piss Kurt off more. Blaine tries damage control. "We live in New York. People lie all the time. It's part of life here. People lie to get jobs, to get raises. Do you really think people tell the truth on their resumes? If you can't handle a little lie then what the hell are you living here for."

Kurt doesn't say anything. He just looks at Blaine incredulously. There was a long moment of silence, before Blaine sighs.

He's sick and tired of feeling empty all the time. He can't continue with his life knowing that he's been a jerk to so many people in his life. He's been doing this to guys since he was seventeen. He'd lied, he'd fucked for the sake of fucking, but he'd never really_ felt_. But when he looks at Kurt, he can't help but feel. He knows he's not ready for a relationship; he knows he'll probably never be ready for a relationship at this point. But maybe, with Kurt, he could at least get a friend, someone who he could really _talk _with.

He has Wes and David, yes. But he's never even told them about Micah, or about why he is the way he is. As far as the two of them know, he's the way he is, simply because it's his personality. But it's really not. Blaine feels like maybe if he worked things out with Kurt then maybe he would be able to fill that empty void he's been missing since he was seventeen. He just needs someone that he could explain everything too. Maybe Kurt could do that for him.

"I'm sorry."

"My anger remains."

Blaine shuts his eyes, trying not to let his anger flare up again. "I am sorry for being an asshole."

Kurt eyes him, looking him up and down, before deciding that Maybe he really is sorry. "I'm sorry for calling you a petulant bitch."

Blaine nods. Kurt looks away.

Blaine holds out his hand to Kurt. "Hi. I'm Blaine Anderson."

"What're you doing?" Kurt asks.

"I live in an apartment with my two best friends and I don't help pay for then rent. I'm unemployed, I like small animals and I'm kind of a slut." Blaine says, still waiting for Kurt to shake his hand.

"No, seriously, what the hell are you doing?"

"Starting over." Blaine looks at him genuinely. "That is, if you want too."

Kurt looks from Blaine's hazel eyes, down to his hand and back up to his eyes before taking his hand. "I'm Kurt Hummel." Blaine smiles. "I live with one of my best friends from high school, I'm a fashionista and I'm kind of a bitch."

"It's great to meet you." Blaine shakes their clasped hands.

"You too." Kurt says, not being able to hold back his small style.

When they release hands, Blaine puts his hands in his back pocket. "So." Blaine says. "As an 'I'm sorry' gift, how about you and I go to dinner tomorrow night."

"You mean, like a date?" Kurt asks flirtatiously.

"As friends." Blaine corrects him.

"I don't know. Would that actually entail you calling me?" Kurt purses his lips.

"I still have your number, so, yeah, I guess it would."

"I suppose it couldn't hurt."

"Really?" Blaine smiles, shocked that Kurt would actually say yes.

"Don't look so surprised. Call me tomorrow to set it up."

Blaine nods, barely being able to contain his excitement. Kurt says his goodbye and walks off down the street. He turns back to Blaine and smiles and Blaine waves back. Once Kurt is out of sight, Blaine thanks whatever higher power is up there for—well, for Kurt.

* * *

><p><strong>An: **_Thoughts? I hope you liked it! I'm already hard at work on the next chapter! Review?_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **_This chapter was kind of hard to write, so i hope it turned out okay. It was hard to piece it all together, but I hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

><p>Blaine holds up his end of the promise and calls Kurt the next day. They agree to go down to a little restaurant called "Jekyll and Hyde". It was Blaine's idea actually. He had told Kurt that their date wouldn't be a <em>date<em>, and this would be the way of really proving it. It's a Sunday, so it wouldn't be that busy. The restaurant is a theme restaurant; It's got all these funny and creepy things on the walls, things that talk, things that sing. Not really romantic at all. Which is perfect because this wasn't supposed to be romantic at all.

When they hang up, Blaine decides to hop in the shower. He's feeling much better than he was yesterday. Yesterday, he seemed to be drowning in his own self-pity. It was like there was a cloud following around everywhere he went. It was just waiting for a perfect moment to start raining on everything. _Today is much, much better_, Blaine thinks to himself as he lets the hot water run down the plains of his back, releasing the tense muscles. He's going to see Kurt tonight, and he can't help but smile at that.

When Blaine steps out of the shower, he wraps a blanket around his waist and takes another towel to his hair. He's about shave when he hears the phone ringing. Not really thinking through the whole running through the apartment wet thing, he darts out of the bathroom, and slides on the floor when he gets to the phone. He slips on the water that falls from his body and lands on the floor with a loud _thud._

"Shit," he hisses, rubbing the back of his head. "Hello?" he asks when he picks up the phone.

"Dude, Blaine, you have to get here now." The unmistakable voice of Jeff says.

"What? Where do I have to go?"

"There's this guy—he's this producer guy and he's here and I told him about you and he wants to meet you but he's only here for today before he heads back to L.A. for a week and he won't be back until then and he might've found someone else by then to—"

"Jeff." Jeff stops talking. "Breathe." Blaine says. "Okay, now start from the beginning. And go slowly. And don't forget to breathe."

"Okay." Jeff takes a deep breath. "I snuck into another Fermata rehearsal—"

"Another one? How many have you snuck into?"

"Three but that's—"

"You have to stop doing that."

"Anyway," Jeff says, annoyance trickling from his voice, then disappearing. "I snuck in and watched them and about halfway through the rehearsal this other guy walked in and sat three rows down from me. When the group took a break, he came up to me and asked me why I was there and we started talking and he told me that he was there to talk to the Director of the group because he needed someone to write the music for his new show."

"And you told him about me?" Blaine asks.

"Yeah, I did. And he said that he would love to meet you."

Blaine smiles. "Uh, wow."

"Yeah, so you should get here, like now."

"Yeah. Let me—Let me just get dressed." Blaine presses the phone between his ear and shoulder. "Should I, uh, bring anything? Like, music? Or something?"

"Yeah, bring your guitar. I'll pick you up from the train station and drive you."

"Thanks Jeff."

"No problem."

"No, really." Blaine says seriously. "I've been job hunting for weeks. This is—" he runs a hand through his hair. "Thank you."

When they hang up Blaine rushes to get ready. He pulls on an outfit that says sophisticated but not snotty; he doesn't want to seem to showy when he meets this guy. He combs his hair, adding a bit of gel to tame the gentle curls, shaves quickly and walks out of the apartment, guitar in hand.

He can't believe that this is actually happening. The whole Taxi ride to Grand Central he can't help but think _holy crap this is incredible. I might get a job. And from what Jeff has said, this sounds like a damn good one._ He's literally so excited that when he exits the he _skips_ his way into Grand Central. It's not until he's on the train, sitting with his head resting against the window that he receives a text from Kurt.

_What're you wearing tonight? I don't want to get too dressed up for our non-date. – Kurt_

"Shit, shit, shit, fuck," Blaine mumbles under his breath. In the rush to get to Connecticut, Blaine had forgotten about meeting Kurt later. He checks his watch and sighs with relief when he sees that he doesn't have to meet Kurt for another 6 hours. They decided to meet 7:30 at the restaurant and the train ride, there and back amounts to an hour and a half, which should give him enough time with this guy.

_I'm wearing Khakis and an oxford. Nothing special. –Blaine_

_Boooooring. Alright, I can work with that. –Kurt _

* * *

><p>"Hi," Blaine holds out his hand. "I'm Blaine Anderson."<p>

"Andrew Alexander." The man in front of him says, shaking his hand. "But, you can call me Andy."

"Nice to meet you, Andy."

Andy wasn't anything like Blaine thought he would be. When Jeff told him that he was a producer that wanted to meet him, Blaine had presumed that he would be older, salt and pepper hair with big black framed glass. But he was oh so wrong. Andy was younger—a lot younger—than he had suspected. Blaine thinks he's probably in his early thirties. He was right about the glasses though.

"You as well," Andy takes a seat allowing Blaine room to open his guitar case. "Tell me, Blaine, how long have you been playing music?"

Blaine puts the guitar strap around his shoulders, gently plucking the strings to tune it. "I've been singing ever since I could talk and I picked up guitar when I was fifteen," Blaine continues to tune his guitar while Andy looks him up and down.

"You seem like the kind of guy who would be into music and theatre." Andy notes, watching the way Blaine didn't need to use a tuner for his guitar.

"I studied music in college. I have perfect pitch,"

"Impressive," Andy nods. "Why don't you play something for me?"

"Like, an original, or—"

"Surprise me."

Blaine plays an original song of his. He feels like it's a better move than doing a cover of a song. This will show Andy that he can write his own music, because that's what this job was about. It was about writing music for a show; he wasn't auditioning to be _in_ the show, he was auditioning to write the music for it. When he finishes the song, he and Andy start talking. And they talk, and talk some more, and they just keep talking.

Andy asks Blaine about his musical background, if he had ever had a job in music. Blaine asks him about what kind of show he's working on. They go back and forth, kind of like they were interviewing each other on Ellen or something. Blaine's not sure how long they've been talking before Jeff (who had been included in the conversation many times) mentions that he had to be getting home, and that he should drive Blaine back to the train station.

"Well Blaine," Andy says when they all stand up, preparing to leave. "You have definitely given me a lot to think about." He takes out a card—a business card, Blaine presumes—and hands it to Blaine. "I'm going to be in L.A. for this next week, but I'll be back after that. I'll give you a call."

Andy smiles, patting Blaine on the shoulder before leaving the auditorium. Blaine looks down at the card, before sliding it in his back pocket. Blaine's drop hearts when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Taking out the phone carefully, he literally winces when he sees what time it is. 7:03. He has a text from Kurt.

_Leaving now. The reservation is under your name, right?- Kurt_

_Yeah it's under Anderson –Blaine_

Blaine wants to toss himself off a roof. He angrily grabs his guitar case, leading Jeff out of the room.

When they're in the car, Jeff can feel Blaine breathing heavily, watching him out of the corner of his eye. "Are you okay?" Jeff asks, trying his hardest to keep his eyes on the road. "You seem really tense?"

"Can you keep my guitar for me? Just for tonight."

Jeff's brows furrow in confusion. "Uh, sure. Can I ask why?"

Blaine looks at the clock on the dashboard. "I'm supposed to meet someone for dinner in 20 minutes, and I'm already going to be late. I don't want to have to stop by the apartment and make myself later than I already am."

"Yeah. I'll take it for you."

Blaine nods, not so secretly looking at the speedometer. "Thanks."

Jeff nods. "No problem." A pause. "So, who're you meeting tonight?"

"Just a friend," Blaine says, looking out and watching the trees pass by.

"Blaine Anderson has a date," Jeff says not believing the 'just a friend' spiel. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"You wont." Blaine glares at him. "Because, it's not a date. You know I don't _date._"

Jeff shrugs. "I don't know Blaine. People can change." He dares a look at Blaine. "_You_ can change. I know you don't want to admit it, but it's possible."

Blaine doesn't look at him. Instead he drums his fingers on his thigh impatiently. The rest of the drive is silent, neither of them daring to say something that could possible piss the other off. When Jeff pulls up to the train station and let's Blaine out, he leans over and looks Blaine directly in the eye.

"I really hope you get this job. It'll be good for you."

Blaine smiles slightly. "Thanks."

Blaine _just_ makes the train. He jumps on literally as the doors are closing. Once he finds a seat, he pulls out his phone and texts Kurt.

_Hey, I'm going to be late. I'll explain when I get there. –Blaine_

He sends the text at 7:17 and turns his phone on silent. He doesn't want to get a text from Kurt and feel even worse than he already felt.

* * *

><p>"You dates not coming,"<p>

Kurt glares at the perky teen looking down at him, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and a name tag that said "Casey".

"Casey," Kurt says as gently as he can, putting on a fake smile. "For the thousandth time, this isn't a date. He'll be here."

"Your reservation was for 7:30. He's a half hour late. He's not coming."

"Why are you on my case?" Kurt glares at her.

"We need the table for the people who are actually going to eat. And pay."

Kurt rolls his eyes. "If I order something will you leave me alone?"

Casey leans down to rest her arms on the table. "Eating out by yourself?" She shakes her head. "That's just sad."

"No, seriously, if I order something, will you leave me the fuck alone?" She pushes herself off the table, taking out her pad of paper and a pen.

"What would you like?" She asks, faking a gentle tone of voice.

"A Coke." Kurt says. "Diet. Two slices of lime. Cold, but no ice."

She glares at him. "Anything else?"

"That's it. For now."

When the teen is out of his sight, Kurt pulls his phone out of his pocket and texts Blaine furiously.

_Where the hell are you?- Kurt_

Kurt doesn't get a response. Which only pisses him of even further. He had already texted him two times before asking where he was and (he's ashamed to admit it) that if he didn't show up soon that he would never ever talk to him again. He admits that it's kind of a childish thing to say, but if it gets the point across then it's a job well done.

Casey brings him his drink and is about to say something snarky but Kurt dismisses her with a wave of his hand. He has a new text message, and he opens it eagerly. It's not from Blaine. Instead it's Rachel telling Kurt that she wasn't going to be home tonight.

Fantastic. Because Kurt totally wanted to spend the night alone with nothing but him and his right hand.

* * *

><p>Blaine has never felt like there are so few taxi cabs in New York City. Never. Not once. Whenever he's just walking about with no where really in mind he sees tons of them; he'd be able to hail one down too. But right now, because he's in a hurry to get somewhere? Of course not. Sure, he's sees tons of the speeding yellow death traps, but all of them are full. Not one single cab will even slow down enough for him to see inside.<p>

He decides to take the walk. Well, he runs actually. He's not sure how far of a run it is, but by the time he gets there he's breathing so heavily he think he might actually pass out. He really should work out more.

Inside the restaurant he spots Kurt sitting at a table for two with his head bowed studiously over his phone. Blaine walks to the table trying to collect his breath.

"I am so sorry," Blaine says, pulling out his chair and sitting down. Kurt doesn't look up from his phone. "Kurt?"

"Care to explain why you're almost an hour late?" He's still looking at his phone.

"I would love to." He says, taking a huge gulp of the glass of water in front of him. Kurt doesn't budge. "I would also like to see you're face when I tell you." He mumbles around the glass.

Kurt wasn't sure if he was supossed to hear that or not but still lifts his head up to look at Blaine. He has an eyebrow perched, waiting for an explanation.

"Okay, I know you're pissed." Blaine starts.

"That would be an understatement."

Blaine ignores the comment. "I was getting out of the shower, and my friend Jeff called me. He told me about this guy who's looking for someone to write music for this show he's working on."

"And he wanted you?"

"I took a train to Connecticut and we ended up talking longer than I thought we would. That's why I'm late." Blaine says, trying to give Kurt the short version of everything. "Am I forgiven?"

"I'm still trying to decide that." Kurt says. He looks over at the girl leaning on the bar and waves her over. "Can you get my friend here the most alcoholic drink that you have?"

"I'm going to need some I.D. please," She snaps.

"Look, _Casey_," Kurt spits. "You've been up my ass all night, so why don't you just get the drink before I make a complaint about you to your boss."

"I could lose my job if I don't get identification." Kurt sighs. Both Blaine and Kurt get out there I. D's and show them to the girl. Once she's satisfied, she walks off with an angry sway in her hips.

"What was that about?" Blaine asks, looking after the girl.

"She was complaining that you weren't here yet, so I kind of bitched her out." Kurt shrugs. "She deserved it though. I mean who does she think she is? Did she get dressed in the dark?"

Blaine chuckles, ducking his head. "I am really sorry about being late. I didn't think we would talk for hours on end."

"It's fine I suppose. You're here now, aren't you?"

Blaine smiles. "I'm not a hollogram."

"I'd be scared if you were." Kurt teases, picking up the menu and looking it over.

When Casey returns with Blaine's drink she takes their orders and leaves them to talk. They talk about random things like their taste when it comes to music (Kurt admits to having a strange love for Lady Gaga while Blaine has no shame in loving Katy Perry) and move onto things like movies (Kurt loves The Wizard of Oz and Blaine's a fan of The Goonies). They also discuss more personal things like family and friends.

"My dad married the mother of the boy who I was madly in love with during sophomore. I was sixteen." Kurt says around a bite of his meal. "Finn was a little hesitant when he first moved in, but he warmed up. It doesn't really seem like we're step-brothers. I feel like we've been brothers forever." Kurt smiles shyly. "What about you? What's your family like?"

"Um." Blaine doesn't know really where he should start. "Well. My mom is incredible. She was the only one who accepted me right away when I came out. My dad took longer to accept me, but he's come around since then."

"Do you have any siblings?" Kurt wonders.

"An older brother, James and a younger sister Teagan."

"How did they feel when you came out?"

"My sister told me that she loves me no matter what, and my brother was already at college so he didn't really have an opinion on the matter." Blaine shrugs. "He always says it is what it is."

When they get the bill, Kurt begins to take out his wallet only to receive a disbelieving look from Blaine.

"What are you doing?" Blaine says, snatching the bill away from Kurt.

"Paying?"

"No you're not."

Kurt shakes his head. "I've never had someone refuse to let me pay before."

Blaine almost laughs. "Have you only gone out with asshole's?"

"I called you an asshole yesterday." Kurt counters.

"I know." Blaine deadpans. "So, do you only go out with assholes?"

"No. Because I'm out with you and I don't think you're an asshole." Kurt shrugs. "Anymore."

Blaine hands the bill to Casey who had barely said a word to them since Blaine had got there. "You're only saying that because I'm paying."

"True." Kurt says. "I've never had anyone pay for me before."

"You've never been out with me before."

Kurt blushes. He actually blushes. And Blaine smiles before he realizes that he shouldn't be doing that—he shouldn't be making Kurt blush because he wasn't trying to woo him. They were out as friends. Friends can pay for each other, right? It's not unusual. But he shouldn't be flirting with Kurt. He has to keep reminding himself of that.

When they leave the restaurant, Blaine starts the whole end of the night conversation, only to be interrupted by Kurt.

"Do you want to come over?" Kurt asks, not even pretending to be shy about it. "Rachel's out with your friend and she's not gonna be home tonight. And I kind of don't want to be alone." Kurt shuffles his feet awkwardly.

"Yeah." Blaine agrees. He doesn't know _why._ But he does. Because he's an idiot. A total fucking idiot.

"We could watch a movie, or talk some more or—"

"We'll find something to do." Blaine says, before following Kurt to his apartment.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**_ The next chapter is one that I absolutely loved writing. I'll get that one up as soon as possible. Thoughts on this chapter? Tell me in a review!_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **_What I should have been doing: summer school work. What I was actually doing: writing this. So please, enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Blaine should not have agreed to this.<p>

Well, maybe agreeing to it was okay.

No. No this was wrong. He can't do this.

But when Kurt's mouth is moving against his in such a way, and he's kind of straddling Blaine and rolling his hips, Blaine doesn't want to stop.

He loses himself in the touch of Kurt. Kurt's hands move down Blaine's clothed torso, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. It's not the only thing that Kurt's unbuttoning though—Blaine is coming undone with every little brush of skin. He moans into Kurt's mouth at his hands brush along the bulge of his pants, pulls on Kurt's hair when Kurt grips his bottom lip between his teeth.

Kurt breaks the contact of their mouths and starts to kiss down his neck, stopping at his collarbone to lick a wet strip there. He kisses his way down Blaine's chest, touching his lips to the exposed skin gently. Subconsciously, it clicked to Blaine that they shouldn't be doing this, that they should stop, but Kurt flicks his tongue around Blaine's nipple and he nearly shakes with anticipation.

"Blow me," Blaine says out of the blue. He doesn't remember thinking that in his mind before he said it. It just sort of slipped out.

Kurt smirks. "That was already the plan." He continues teasingly down Blaine's body, unbuckling his belt with a single hand as the other massages his chest. In one swift movement, Kurt has Blaine completely naked and writhing beneath him. Leaning down he kisses the inside of Blaine's leg, kissing up and up before he stops, his lips just mere inches away form Blaine's erection. Kurt places a gentle kiss on the head, holding down Blaine's hips from bucking up.

The wet heat encasing Blaine as Kurt bobs his head up and down, swirling his tongue around Blaine causes Blaine to throw his head back and groan in pleasure. He can feel everything; the comforter on Kurt's bed, Kurt's fingers digging into his hips. Everything is blinding to Blaine, like he almost can't handle all of the pleasure that Kurt seems to be giving without any problem.

Kurt hollows his cheeks in order to swallow more of Blaine. Blaine moans, arching his back slightly, running his hands through Kurt's hair. Kurt starts to hum around Blaine, which causes him to buck up his hips involuntarily. Kurt holds his hips down harder to keep them from moving, his grip tight enough that it could bruise. With a few more bobs of Kurt's head and a flash of white, Blaine is coming, hot and quick down Kurt's throat. Kurt swallows it all, before pulling off Blaine with a 'pop'. It's a few seconds before Kurt is moaning, coming all over his hand and stomach. Blaine hadn't been aware that Kurt had been getting off to the sight of him getting a blow job.

Quickly and lazily, Kurt cleans them both up before crawling up to lay next to Blaine. They don't say anything. Instead they listen to the sound of their breaths, Kurt's easing before Blaine's. Kurt flips on the television on the opposite side of the wall, changing the channel to one of those weird obsessive shows, the kind where people have weird addictions. Blaine can tell that Kurt's not paying attention to the show. He can feel Kurt tense a little bit every time Blaine moves, like he's waiting for Blaine to say something.

Blaine on the other hand actually prefers if they don't talk. He can already feel the guilt building in his gut. They shouldn't have done this. This shouldn't have happened. Blaine shouldn't have _let_ it have happen. He knows he can't back-track now.

And he feels like a jerk for it.

"This shouldn't have happened," Blaine almost whispers.

Kurt turns his head to look at Blaine. "Hmm?"

"I'm so sorry, Kurt." Blaine says, starting to sit up.

"Why?" Kurt asks, following Blaine's lead and sitting up along side him.

"This shouldn't have happened." Blaine says again, looking around Kurt's floor for his clothes. "This can't happen. I'm sorry Kurt, I can't—"

Kurt shakes his head, not following what Blaine was saying. "We didn't do anything wrong, Blaine."

"Don't you get it?" Blaine asks, more talking to himself than Kurt.

"No." Kurt crosses his arms. "I don't get it Blaine. Enlighten me, won't you?"

Blaine looks somberly at Kurt, a million apologies in his eyes. "What exactly do you expect from me?"

Kurt's brows furrow, watching as Blaine pulls on his khakis. "I don't expect anything from—"

"Do you want to expect something from me?" Blaine begins to buckle his belt. "Do you want something from me that I can't give you?"

"Blaine, you're not making any sense right now." Kurt says as he starts to dress himself. "Why do you think what we did is so wrong?" His face pales. "You don't have a boyfriend, do you?"

"No." Blaine bows his head, not meeting Kurt's eyes. "I don't."

"Then why are you freaking out?" Kurt sits on the bed, watching Blaine walk around aimlessly.

"Because I can't give you what you want—need." Blaine shakes his head. "Answer me this—What do you want out of…us? Out of us being friends?"

"A friend? Blaine, you're actually starting to scare me." Kurt says, his face still pale.

_Shit._ Blaine thinks. _He probably thinks I killed someone or robbed a bank or that I'm going to drug and kill him. _

Blaine sighs, taking a deep breath. "Down the road," he says slowly. "Do want something more out of our friendship?"

"What you mean like a relationship?" Blaine nods. "I don't know." Kurt shrugs. "I know that one day I do want to settle down with someone and start a family, but—"

"This would be so much easier if you had just said no." Blaine puts his head in his hands. "We can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

Blaine gestures to the bed their sitting on and the crumpled sheets. "This. _Sex._ We have to stop."

Kurt takes a deep breath. He really doesn't want to stop the sex. Because if he's being completely honest, it's kind of awesome. "Why?"

"I can't keep leading you on."

"Who says you're leading me on?" Kurt scoffs.

"Oh come on, Kurt." Blaine says, standing again. "I've been leading you on since we first met. I flirted with you when we were at the Viper and then even when we agreed to be friends, I still flirted with you and convinced you to go out with me."

"As friends," Kurt interjects.

"Exactly. Does this" he gestures to the bed again. "Look friendly?"

Kurt shakes his head. "I was the one who started it, remember?"

"It doesn't matter." Blaine says. "The fact of the matter is that I should have stopped this as soon as it started. I knew it was wrong but I let it happen anyway. You should _hate_ me right now."

Kurt scoots further onto the bed, getting closer to Blaine, who remained standing. "I don't hate you. Yeah, sure I was pissed at you when you didn't text me back after I asked you three times where you were earlier tonight, but I don't hate you."

"Would you hate me if I said that I don't want a relationship?" Blaine asks, looking directly into Kurt's eyes.

"No." Kurt answers simply.

"Ever?"

"You never want a relationship?" Kurt doesn't look at Blaine.

"Do you hate me?"

"No."

They don't say anything. Blaine sits next to Kurt on the bed, but neither of them say anything. Kurt can't believe that Blaine doesn't want to be in a relationship. It's not that he doesn't want a relationship with _him, _it's the fact that he doesn't want a relationship ever that's kind of scary to Kurt.

"Why don't you want a relationship?" Kurt finally asks. He still doesn't look at Blaine. "Isn't love and being with someone the purpose of life? To love and to be loved?"

"I think the purpose of life is to live it." Blaine says simply.

"And you still don't want a relationship?" Blaine shakes his head. "Never. Not once?" Kurt throws his hands up in defeat. "Why?"

Blaine stops to think. "It's not because of you, Kurt. It's not that I don't want a relationship with you specifically; it would never be that. It's just—I've gone through a lot in the past that's just turned me off to relationships. And love."

"What happened?" Kurt asks tentatively.

Blaine bites his lip. H does want to tell Kurt about Micah. But he's not sure if he should do so in this moment. It doesn't feel right to tell him now. "It's okay if you hate me," Blaine says, changing the subject quickly.

"I don't hate you." Kurt says, smiling a little bit this time. Blaine can't help but smile back at him, gently.

His smile fades however when he says "Maybe you should."

Kurt's shoulders slump. "Do you want me to?"

Blaine meets his eyes, looking sad and tired. "No."

"Then I wont."

"But," Blaine starts. "I do think that we should agree to just being friends."

"Right," Kurt nods.

"No sex."

"Yup."

"Just friends."

"Exactly."

Blaine smiles. "Cool. So this'll wont happen again."

"Never."

* * *

><p>The next time it happens, they're at Blaine's place, three days later. Rachel and David were in the kitchen making cupcakes (and they were being all cutesy and putting their names in hearts on the frosting; it was sickeningly cute) so Blaine took Kurt into his room.<p>

To put it short, they fucked. Kurt on bottom, Blaine on top.

When they're laying next to each other and catching their breath, Kurt can feel that Blaine's about to go all ape shit.

"Before you say anything about how this shouldn't have happened blah blah bah, I'd like to point out that friends have sex all the time."

Blaine rolls his eyes. "You think I'm going to make a habit of fucking you while David and Rachel are in the kitchen?"

"I'm just saying that you're making this a bigger deal than necessary." Kurt looks at the door. "Are you sure they didn't hear us?" he asks.

Blaine shrugs. "They're probably too busy making cute faces at each other to notice anything else." He looks at Kurt. "You really don't think that this is a big deal?"

"We could be like—sex friends."

Blaine barks a laugh. "What, you mean like fuck buddies?"

"Not fuck buddies." Kurt says. "I hate that terminology. Sex friends sounds classier."

"You're completely serious about being sex friends aren't you?"

"Of course I am." Kurt shrugs.

"How about no," Blaine starts to get up and get dressed.

"Why not?" Kurt pouts. The mood of this conversation is much lighter than the mood of their conversation three days ago. It's strange what a few days will do to a person.

"Because that's just leading to disaster." Blaine answer, throwing a shirt on. "Besides, we agreed to be friends."

"Fine," Kurt says, giving up. It was worth a shot.

"Promise me if we ever try to do this again, that you'll at least try to stop it." Blaine looks seriously at Kurt.

"You think this'll happen again?"

"I'm taking precautions."

There's a knock on the door. "Kurt? Blaine?" It's Rachel. "Are you guys in there?"

"Yes, Rachel?" Kurt calls.

"David and I are gonna go shopping in Time Square. We were wondering if you wanted to tag along."

"Sure, Rach. We'll be out in a couple minutes." Kurt says loud enough for Rachel to hear.

"Why'd you say yes?"

"She would drag us anyway," Kurt pulls on his pants. "Besides it could be fun. It's shopping."

"Yeah," Blaine says sardonically. "Shopping with no money is one of my favorite things to do."

Kurt rolls his eyes and continues to get dressed. "Like I have any money."

"You get paid."

"Barely." Kurt scrunches his nose. "I _barely_ get paid." Kurt makes his way to the connected bathroom to fix his hair.

With his belt jingling, Blaine joins Kurt in the bathroom. "So then, we're just going to go fantasize about buying clothes?" Kurt nods, squirting a bit of hair gel into his palm. Blaine watches Kurt fix his hair, almost like he's in a trance. He can really see how much effort he puts into his appearance. Blaine smiles, reaching around him to get his toothbrush.

* * *

><p>"Daaaaaavid," Rachel says, pulling on his arm gently. "We have to go into that store!"<p>

Rachel's pointing to one of those totally typical New York tourist shops; the ones with the "I heart New York" shirt and bags, and weird shirts and every Broadway musical ever had it's own separate special section of the store.

"Rachel, why do you need souvenirs? You live in New York." David poses a question.

"It's not for the souvenirs, David." Rachel rolls her eyes. "I read online somewhere that these types of stores were the most likely to have collections of Playbills, and I am missing some. Thus begins my search."

Rachel drags David in and Kurt and Blaine follow. They watch as Rachel plows through the entire store looking for the missing pieces of her playbill collection. She doesn't have much luck, only finding one from the musical Cats. Disappointed, Rachel insists that they continue with their search. They walk all up and down the streets looking for more stores that sell original playbills, but much to their chagrin they find none.

"I guess my online search wasn't thorough enough," Rachel pouts. "I'll just have to search more when I get home." She shrugs. "So, do you guys want to grab some coffee?"

Blaine learns the hard way that when Rachel Berry wants something (like going out to coffee) she will do anything and everything in her will power to get it. And that's how he ends up sitting in Kurt and Rachel's apartment the very next day, 'helping' Rachel pick out an outfit to wear to her next audition.

Much to contrary belief, Blaine isn't all that into fashion. Sure, he knows what colors go together, what looks good, but he's not always up to date with the latest fashion trends like Kurt. He tends to be into more laid back clothing; less showy, more comfortable. Although if you ask Kurt he'll probably say something like "Every moment is a moment for fashion and if you aren't going to make it so then you might as well drop dead" or something along those lines.

"What about this one?" Rachel holds out a floral dress with a blue flower print. "I was thinking I could pair it with this belt," she holds out a green braid belt, "And a cute pair of ballet flats."

David smiles. "I think you would look good in anything."

Kurt almost smacks the back of his head. "Rachel, don't you have anything that doesn't resemble what my grandma Louise wore?"

Blaine bites back a laugh, but Rachel shoots both him a Kurt a glare.

"You're in New York; a fashion capital. You can't look like you've just stepped out of the 50's."

Rachel's shoulders slump. "Well, what am I supposed to do, Kurt?" She shrugs. "We've been through my entire closet, and you have had nothing positive to say about anything."

"Not true." Kurt counters. "I liked that black jacket you had."

"That's because you gave it to me for my birthday."

"And how many times have you worn it?"

"Why don't we just go shopping?" David cuts in before Rachel could argue back. "I'm sure Kurt could help you find a more appropriate outfit for your audition."

Kurt scoffs. "How dare you even question my ability to spot trends. Of course I can help. Blaine could help too, if he wanted."

Blaine's eyes widen at the mention of his name. "Uh, what? No. Not really. I'm not really fashion forward."

"You're gay. Of course your fashion forward."

"'Way to break the stereotype, Blaine!'" Blaine says, mocking Kurt's voice. "Sure, Kurt!" he returns to his normal voice. "Anything to help prove that not all gay men are interested in fashion."

"I resent that statement." Kurt crosses his arms.

"Well, you could at least try to help, Blaine." Rachel says. "It would probably make a difference if I have two people helping me choose outfits."

"Hey," David says. "What am I?"

"You're the bag-holder," Rachel teases, popping a kiss to David's nose. She looks back at Blaine with big brown puppy-dog eyes. "Please help, Blaine? Please?"

Dammit. Rachel Berry really does get everything she wants.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**_ Yeah, i know the ending was iffy, but I promise it'll all make sense in the next chapter. Anyway, I'm going to be away for the next five days, and I haven't started to work on the next chapter yet. I don't know when I'll be able to get the next one up. But thank you to all of my lovely reviewers! You reviews really make my day! Thoughts on this chapter? Please review! _


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:**_ I SUCK SO SO SO MUCH. You guys, I am so sorry i haven't updated in forever. You have no idea how upset i get when i think about how long it took me to get this update out. I am soooo sorry. The short explanation is that school started and it's a bitch and i have rehearsal every day and time really isn't on my side. I promise to you that i will try my hardest to get the next chapter out in the next couple of weeks. With the three week hiatus (DAMNIT) coming up in glee, i should have some more time because i wont be fangirling about that all the time. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It was really hard to write, thank you Mr. Writers Block, but here it is. Sorry it's so short!  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter eight<strong>

"I don't exactly see the purpose of buying the same exact shirt is six different colors."

Blaine uses his foot to shut the door behind him seeing as his hands are full of bags that Kurt had forced him to carry.

"Not to mention that you probably used your entire paycheck on clothes that aren't even for you,"

Kurt scoffs as he throws his jacket on the back of the couch. "You will be paying me back," he smirks. "Don't think you're getting off that easy." Blaine drops the bags on the other side of the couch, allowing Kurt to start digging through the bag. He pulls out one of the shirts and a pair of pants and throws them at Blaine. "Go to your room and try these on."

"Bossy," Blaine says, catching the clothes just barely. Blaine does as he's told and goes to his room. He looks at the clothes in his hand with a questioning eye, shrugging. Blaine slips on the clothes (although 'slip' would be the wrong word because those jeans are so tight, Blaine's surprised he didn't have to get help from Kurt) and returns to the living room.

"What the hell took you so long?" Kurt looks Blaine up and down once he's returned.

"You may be used to wearing jeans that are this tight, but I'm not." Blaine shifts uncomfortably. "I feel like my balls are suffocating."

Kurt walks around to Blaine to fix his collar. "It's the pain of looking hot,"

"You think I look hot?" Blaine wiggles his eyebrows.

"No." Blaine pouts. "I just felt the need to say that to you," Kurt smirks. "No one else would ever say it to you; I wanted to make you feel special." Kurt teases.

"Fuck you!" Blaine laughs, pushing Kurt's hands away.

Kurt shakes his head. "Been there, done that, remember?"

"Right." Blaine rolls his eyes. "But seriously, how do I look?"

Kurt walks a circle around Blaine, looking at him from all angles. "Not bad," Kurt taps his chin. "Go put this shirt on instead." Kurt throws a red shirt at him. "Also, but this bow-tie on."

"I'm not your dress up doll," Blaine protests, snatching the bow-tie from Kurt's hands.

"So you say," Kurt counters and Blaine raises and eyebrow at him. "Go! Go get changed."

The next time Blaine comes sauntering out of his room, Kurt nearly yells at him. "You cannot tell me you don't know how to tie a bow-tie."

Blaine shrugs, looking at the untied fabric hanging around his neck. "I've never had to wear one before." Kurt shakes his head, stepping in front of Blaine to tie the bow tie. "I'm a master at normal ties. I had to wear one all throughout high school,"

Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Did you go to a private school or something?"

"Dalton Academy in Westerville, Ohio." Blaine says proudly. Kurt's hands freeze immediately, and they lock eyes. "What?" Blaine asks curiously.

"Dalton Academy?" Kurt asks.

"Yeah," Blaine's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"And you were in show choir?"

"Yeah, we talked about that the first night we met,"

"I remember, I remember, I just….." Kurt smiles. "You're a Warbler."

"Wait, what," Blaine eyes go wide with shock. "Yeah I am. Or was, but do you know?"

"We kicked your ass at Sectionals."

Blaine almost smiles. "Which one of the terribly dressed school show choirs were you?"

"William McKinley New Directions," Kurt laughs. "And I'm not even going to argue with the fact that we were terribly dressed."

"Because you were?"

"Those outfits were not my idea," Kurt says in his defense. "If it was up to me, we would have looked much better than we did."

They both chuckle a little bit, fading into a comfortable silence. It suddenly clicks in Blaine's head that there was a reason why the name Rachel Berry was familiar to him, which only sends him into another loud round of laughter. When Kurt asks what was so funny, Blaine shrugs it off, saving it for another time.

* * *

><p>"So what's the deal with you and Blaine?" Rachel asks around a mouthful of Ben and Jerry's half-baked ice cream.<p>

Today was the first day that Rachel hadn't spent with David. David had gotten the job that Wes had offered him and it was his first day of real work. Rachel insisted on spending the day with Kurt watching classics in their shoddy living room.

"There is no deal," Kurt says, sticking his spoon back into the tub.

"So you guys aren't dating?"

"Where would you get that idea?" Kurt doesn't meet her eyes.

Rachel giggles a little bit. "You guys weren't exactly quiet yesterday."

Kurt pales but then flushes. "That was just a one time thing. Just sex. One time." Kurt deliberately 'forgets' to mention the first time they had sex, the night they met.

"So you guys _are_ dating."

Kurt gives Rachel a disbelieving look. "Sex is not dating."

Rachel shakes her head. "Maybe not, but I've seen the way you look at him."

"And how is that, exactly?" Kurt snaps.

"Like you want to be his boyfriend. Like you want to be _with _him."

"That's not going to happen, Rachel," Kurt stands and struts to the kitchen, dropping the ice cream tub on the counter. He opens the refrigerator and grabs a Mike's Lemonade and downs half of it.

"How are you so sure about that, Kurt?" Rachel follows him to the kitchen.

Crossing his arms, he looks directly at her. "Blaine and I have had that conversation, Rachel. We've agreed, we're only friends."

Confusion crosses her face. "Wait you've talked with him about this?"

"Yes and we're just friends."

Rachel watches Kurt grumble around the kitchen with a sort of sadness in his eyes. He doesn't move with the same pep he usually does. He doesn't hum along to the radio or sing his favorite Broadway song. He just goes, mulling from one thing to the next, not showing any emotions.

"Kurt, you're my best friend. I know you better than anyone." Kurt barely meets her eyes. "If you have feelings for him—"

"I don't,"

"If you do," Rachel ignores Kurt. "I'll support you no matter what,"

Kurt looks at with somber eyes. "You knew me and my relationships. I fall way to deep, way too fast and the other person never feels the same way about me. Even if we could be in a relationship, there's no way that I would want to be in one." He shrugs. "I don't know if I'd be able to handle the pain. I just have to be careful around him is all."

Rachel wraps her arms around Kurt and starts rocking back and forth.

* * *

><p>Blaine gets a call at two in the morning. He's expecting it to be Rachel again, calling at the wee hours of the morning but instead he finds that it's Andy Alexander, calling from L.A. Blaine's body automatically responds when he hears Andy's voice; he sits up straighter, now suddenly wide awake as he listens to what Andy has to say.<p>

Andy says that he's going to be back in New York in a day, and this time he's going to bring his friend Michael Tierney who is going to be the director of the show that Andy has written. He wants to meet Blaine at 2 o'clock sharp at the Imperial Theatre, where they'll discuss payment and what the job actually entails.

Blaine must have missed the part where Andy said that he actually got the job. Or, maybe he heard, but because of the numbness that's now coursing through Blaine's body, he just let the actual words slip through his mind. But he knows. He knows that he actually got the job. He knows that he's actually going to be working, doing something that he loves, and he's going to get paid for it. He hasn't felt this good since—

Since he and Micah first made love.

A wave of sadness rushes over Blaine as he thinks about Micah, something he rarely ever lets himself do. He thinks of the way he smelled; like a beach and with just a pinch of lemon. He thinks of the way his lips felt on his, or how his hands felt on his hips. But Blaine stops there, not letting his imagination run further.

Because he now has a job. Something he can look forward too. Something that'll help him to not be a complete bum. Micah was in his life five years ago. He's been gone for five years, and Blaine just needs to let the memory of him go. He needs to forget about Micah and everything that he was.

In turn, the first person he calls is Kurt.

* * *

><p>Blaine helplessly trying to find what he's going to wear when he meets up with Andy when there's a knock on the door. He doesn't even bother to put on a shirt because when people knock it's usually someone he doesn't know looking for someone else he doesn't know. People normally buzz up if they want to come in.<p>

When he opens the doors he's surprised to be face to face with one Kurt Hummel. "What the hell are you doing here?" Blaine asks, completely shocked at the man standing in front of him.

"Hello to you too," Kurt teases, walking into the apartment.

"Sorry," Blaine mumbles, closing the door behind him. "I'm just freaking out right now."

Kurt looks at him incredulously. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"I just asked you why you're here, so I really have no clue." Blaine watches as Kurt tosses his bag on the couch.

"I am here to be your fashion expertise." Kurt puts his hands on his hips.

Blaine eyes him up and down. "Do you have some weird telepathy power thing going on that you didn't tell me about?" Blaine asks. "Because the fact that you knew I needed help is actually kind of weirded out by it."

Kurt rolls his eyes. "I have a fairly good sense about people who need help with fashion and you, my friend, are definitely one of those people."

"Are you this nice to all your friends?" Blaine drops sarcastically.

"Only you," Kurt reaches into the bag that he brought with him and pulls out a dark purple shirt and pair of charcoal grey trousers. He lays them out over the top of the couch, waiting for Blaine to say something. When he remains silent, Kurt brings out another shirt, this time a deep red color, and a pair of black pants.

"I brought these for you." Kurt explains.

"No," Blaine said. "I thought you brought clothes for me to look at only." Blaine rolls his eyes. "You didn't need to bring me clothes. I have plenty of them."

"Is that why you're wearing nothing but boxers and a white tee-shirt."

Kurt smiles at him and Blaine goes pink. He reaches over Kurt and picks up one of the ensembles. "Thank you," he says, and Kurt nods. Blaine dresses, not even caring that Kurt was watching—he's seen him in less. It's hard to care when someone who has seen you naked is watching you get dressed.

"Do you always help your friends like this?" Blaine asks, finishing in the last of the buttons on the shirt.

"Sometimes," Kurt props himself on the back of the couch. "Depends on how much I like the person."

Blaine smiles smugly. "You like me," he states.

Kurt chuckles. "You go ahead and think that." Kurt reaches into the bag again and brings out of bowtie. It's a grey charcoal like the trousers currently on Blaine's body. After Blaine tucks in his shirt, Kurt places the bowtie around his neck. "Do I need to tie this for you again?"

Blaine nods, suddenly very aware of how close they are. Blaine can feel Kurt's sweet breath ghost across his skin as his fingers moves quickly and tie the bowtie. Blaine hasn't really noticed before, but Kurt has really long eyelashes. They almost look as if they have mascara on them, but they look more organic than that. If they were any closer, Blaine thinks that Kurt would be able to give him butterfly kisses. If only they _were_ closer.

Micah would always give him butterfly kisses. It used to be one of Blaine's favorite things. He loved the feel of the soft eyelashes brushing against his skin. He's not sure why, but it always made him feel better, no matter what. He could have been having the worst day, but as soon as he saw Micah, as soon as he was in his arms and Micah was giving him butterfly kisses, everything looked brighter. Maybe it had to do with the person who was giving them; maybe not. Maybe it was the fact that he loved the way the lashes tickled his skin, the fact that something so small made him so very happy; maybe not.

Blaine's eyes are closed. Kurt finishes tying, but doesn't move his hand. He watches Blaine breathe for a moment. He looks peaceful, his chest rising and falling with every intake of breath. Unknowingly, Blaine leans forward—Kurt almost thinks that he's going to kiss him, but instead Blaine's forehead comes to rest on Kurt's.

Kurt allows himself to shut his eyes, and breathe along with Blaine. He's not sure how long they stand like that, foreheads touching and breathing in tandem. When Blaine opens his eyes, he sees that Kurt's eyes are closed. All he wants to do is lean forward and feel his lips move with Kurt's. It seems like the right thing to do in the moment. He doesn't let himself, though. It's all he wants, and he hates himself for wanting to kiss Kurt. He hates that he feels, he hates that he wants to touch. He holds back.

Kurt pulls back when he hears a phone alarm go off. It's Blaine's.

"I have to go," Blaine says, not meeting Kurt's eyes. "I'm sorry."

Kurt nods, moving out of the way so that Blaine could make a clear path to the door. Kurt doesn't want him to leave, although he knows that he has to. It doesn't seem fair that after whatever had just happened, whatever had just made Kurt feel so many feelings, the person who he feels for has to leave.

Kurt watches as Blaine slips on his shoes and jacket. He looked so perfect, it was no wonder Kurt was having a hard time focusing. Blaine is just about out the door when he hears a voice say "Maybe we could hang out after you're done?"

It's not until after Blaine turns around and says "I'll call you and let you know" that Kurt realizes that it was his voice that had asked.

With that, Blaine leaves the apartment, Kurt still standing inside. Kurt doesn't know what to do with himself. He's stuck in one position, watching the door, waiting for something the happen.

He stands there. He waits. He prays to whatever deity there may be that he doesn't believe in. Nothing happens. The door remains shut. There's not a sound that breaks his waiting.

He leaves in silence.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_I love every single person who reads this and who subscribed and commented and favorited. I really do. You guys mean so much to me. Thanks for sticking around through this long, LONG period of me not updating. Hopefully this chapter and the next couple chapters will make up for it. I'm just letting you all know that I am not abandoning this story AT ALL. I love and I love where it's going. Hopefully you do too! Leave a comment?_

_(ps. Who's loving the new season? I absolutely adore it!)_


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